


Bunker Hall

by BellaRisa



Series: Bunker Hall [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Age Play, Age Regression/De-Aging, Anal Sex, BAMF Castiel, BAMF Sam, Bondage and Discipline, Bottom Dean, Bottom Gabriel, College, Corporal Punishment, Dean-Centric, Dennystiel, Destiel - Freeform, Domestic Discipline, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, Garth - Freeform, Human Castiel, Human Gabriel, Infantilism, M/M, Non-Consensual Spanking, Non-Consensual Tickling, Non-Explicit Sex, Non-Sexual Age Play, Pacifiers, Sabriel - Freeform, Sam - Freeform, Sexual Content, Sexual Humor, Sexual tickling, Spanking, Team Dean's Red Ass, Tickling, Ticklish Dean, Top Castiel, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, University, bondage and tickling, brat!dean, in a college setting, punishment tickling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-25
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-04-28 00:56:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 64,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5071792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BellaRisa/pseuds/BellaRisa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Cas, my friggin’ dorm R.A., is spanking me.</p><p>Over a hay bale. In a barn on an apple farm.</p><p>I throw myself backwards as hard as I can. Absolutely nothing happens. Cas is way, WAY stronger than I thought. </p><p>I might be in trouble."</p><p>A bratty freshman meets his match in a blue-eyed Alpha dorm R.A.; hilarity ensues!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. How Do You Like Them Apples?

**Author's Note:**

> Just a college fantasy I've had since...well since college, lol! Dean and Cas and the rest of the SPN crew fit so well that I had to finally write it, enjoy:)
> 
> WARNING:There will be the occasional non-con and/or dub-con spanking in this story and this series, mostly consensual non-consent but still. If that's triggery for you or you just don't like it by all means skip this series, thanks!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [](http://s30.photobucket.com/user/bellarisatk/media/bunkercover.jpg.html)
> 
> Cover art by the incredilicious Mayalaen, thank you so much!!!! ♥♥♥

I don’t want to pick apples. I _really_ don’t want to pick apples at freakin' 7am on a Saturday.

It’s one of the truly stupid parts of being a freshman at this University; before the end of this first semester I have to participate in at least one of the lame-ass activities the Resident Assistant plans for the freshman dorm or they’ll give my space to someone on the wait list. Since I hate cutesy bullshit, like playing “get to know you!” games and fucking Frisbee Golf, I’ve managed to avoid everything Castiel, the R.A., has wanted me to do so far. It hasn’t been too difficult, just a matter of not being around when Cas comes knocking and not returning his annoying-ass little messages on the whiteboard on my door. I know it’s been pissing him off, my “don’t give a crap” attitude, but I’m just not a Joiner and the sooner he learns that the better. And don’t get me wrong, I like Cas and he seems like an okay guy. He’s fun when it’s just a few of us hanging in the common room; he’s a graduate student for Scene Design, since I’m a theatre major I love talking to him. And he’s actually kinda hot; all dark hair and tight body, and seriously blue eyes that make you stop for a minute and just…look. Hell, I might even want to go after him if it wasn’t for all the corny crap he wants me to do…meanwhile my roomie LOVES that kinda shit so he goes to every damn thing. Garth is like a Greyhound puppy whose owner keeps him high all the time; he’s a relentlessly cheerful damn hippie but he’s MY relentlessly cheerful damn hippie, it’s only been a few weeks but I already love the goofy muthafucka like family. And since he goes to each and every dumbass activity Cas comes up with I figure our room is sufficiently represented, y’know?

So it well and truly sucks when I forget to ignore the pounding on our door at 6am.

“ WHOEVER THE FUCK THAT IS BETTER GET THE FUCKA WAY FROM MY GODDAMN DOOR.”

“This is Castiel, Dean. You need to open your door. NOW.”

Shit.

I fumble out of my bottom bunk (Garth weighs even less than my baby sister, Charlie; its better if he’s in the top bed) and shuffle my hungover, cranky ass to the door. Open it just a crack and get ready to growl until Cas decides to leave me the hell alone and go pick apples with Garth and the other happy-ass freshmen.

I never get the chance.

Before I can even open my damn mouth he’s in the room, pushing past me and crossing over to my bunk where he proceeds to stand, just...watching me. It makes me uncomfortable as hell, like I’m a little kid in trouble. Even though Cas can’t be more than four or five years older than me at the most.

“Dude do you mind? I was sleeping—“

“Yes I do mind. And so should you. This is our last group event, Dean.”

“…and?” I’m trying to wipe the sleep from my itchy eyes. There’s a monkey trying to claw its way into my brain. My clock says 6:10am, meaning I had maybe 3 hours of sleep once I got home from that kegger at that one frat. (That reminds me, I gotta check on my car, I know I drove her home but as buzzed as I was I probably shouldn't have...)

“AND, that means you come with us now or you explain to your Advisor and your family why you need to find a new place to live.”

THAT wakes me up. My head jerks up to see Cas, arms and ankles crossed as he leans against the bunks, waiting calmly for me to do whatever I’m supposed to do right now.

“Dude seriously, just write me a note or something. I don’t need to pick fucking apples—“

Cas is suddenly RIGHT in front of me; how the fuck did he move that fast, does he have freakin’ wings? Geez.

“Not sure who you think you are, Mr. Winchester, but I've had enough. The same rules apply to you as everyone else. You’re not too cool for *one* event with your peers. Get dressed and meet us in front in 5 minutes. We WILL leave without you and I don’t think you want that.”

He’s close to me, too close. I catch a whiff of whatever cologne he’s wearing and as much as I want to push his face in, that’s not exactly what I want to do with those lips. And just when I think this heat I’m feeling is mutual—

He backs up a step. Looks me up and down, slowly. He seems to decide…something. The ‘something’, whatever it is, gives me a weird feeling. A flutter in my belly that I like and really *don’t* at the same time.

And then he’s gone.

Now I have 3 minutes. I totally believe he’ll leave me. And he’s right, I really don’t want him to. Not just because I don’t want the hassle it’ll cause.

I don’t want to know how mad he’d be if I don’t make it in time.

Or maybe I do. I—dammit I dunno. Whatever, It’s too early for this shit.

I find last night’s jeans and my boots and throw on an old AC/DC shirt and run down to the bus. Seems like Cas is just about to tell the driver to shove off when I amble up the steps and hurry past him, toward the empty window seat next to Garth. Don’t ask me why, but I swear it feels like I dodged a bullet with him, not just with school policy. The stern look he gives me brings that weird flutter back. And I hurry past him. Like he might _do_ something if I don’t. The hairs on the back of my neck tingle as I move by him.

I gotta think about this.

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“Oh my god, His Royal Winchester’s actually on the bus!”  
“Somebody must’ve threatened his life. Or his beer!”

I knew I’d get shit, these bums from my floor know I hate crap like this and avoid it like the plague. They’re tryin’ so hard to get some tail from these girls that they’ll do anything. Including fucking apple picking at Bullshit o’clock on the weekend when they don’t have to. I ignore some, flip off others, and shuffle down the bus aisle to Garth.

“Hey good, you made it!” Garth gives me a freakin’ hug as I sit down next to him. I tolerate it for all of 3 seconds before I punch him in the arm.

“OW, what was that for??” Wounded Greyhound puppy rubbing his injury.

“Why didn’t you wake me dude, you knew I had to go to this thing!”

No, I didn’t ask him to wake me. Which is why Garth gapes at me like the obnoxious douche I am at the moment.

“…are you serious? I TRIED Bruh, for like 10 minutes! You said you’d tie me into a knot and stuff me in the closet if I didn’t leave you alone so I bailed!”

Hmm…now that he mentions it I do have a vague memory of his skinny ass shaking me. And wanting to break him in two like a chopstick after the meal. That’s no excuse though, he’s supposed to have my back even when I’m being…me.

“Whatever man, you’re just lucky I made it anyway.” I settle in with my head against the window, shades keeping the asshole morning sun out of my eyes so I can crash.

“I’M lucky?? You could have got kicked out of—“ I cover his entire face with my hand.

“Shush, men are sleeping.” He sputters and I *know* he’s thinking about licking my palm…then remembers what happened last time and how much he hated being held upside down for that long. I take pity on him and move my hand. Take a cherry Jolly Rancher out of my pocket and wave it at him, feel his whole body light up as he grabs it from me. Garth’ll do damn near anything for a cherry Jolly Rancher. We’re good.  
I drift off amidst the chatter of umpteen other kids. I hear Cas talking too.  
I like hearing his voice as I’m falling asleep.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I’m out until I feel the bus come to a stop. Stretching, I haul myself up and follow Garth off the bus and over to…you know that black and white farm in Kansas where Dorothy was before Oz? Yeah that’s where we are. And the OMG HAPPY chick in overalls is telling us alllll about apple trees and cider and—

And I have never wanted to shoot myself as much as I do right now. I see a barn off in the distance and wonder if hay is as soft as it is in movies.

I decide to go find out. I’m letting everyone else get in front of me as I fade back—

“Yes, that's a nice barn. You should probably keep up with the group, Mr. Winchester.”

Shit. Cas is RIGHT behind me. I turn a bit and he’s smirking at me, like he’s caught me with my hand in Daddy’s cookie jar.

“I am, I am…just want to make sure the shorter people can see the guide-girl-person.” I smile charmingly. His look tells me I sound as full of shit as I am. But instead of reading me the riot act, he continues to smirk and puts a hand on my back as he not-so-gently shoves me toward the rest of the group. I can’t help grinning a little, I’m humble enough to admit when I’m busted. He follows and I find myself immersed in apples and farming and fresh fucking air.

And that cologne Cas is wearing. Mixed with the scents from this place. Someone should bottle that scent, they’d make millions.

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

An hour later I really think I may kill someone if I don’t get away from fucking apples.

Freshman girls, as hot as a lot of them are, can be REALLY annoying when something gets them worked up. Apples are getting them worked up. Giggling females are running all over the place, baskets of apples over their little arms as they talk about apples and show each other apples and wonder just how many different recipes you can make from apples. Meanwhile a lot of the GUYS are either getting just as into it or acting like they are, carrying baskets for the girls (or their own--!) and ALSO discussing fucking apples. A few guys are over by the animals; Garth is with them and from their gestures I know they’re wondering if you can get a cow high. Morons. Of course you can.

Clowns to the left of me. Jokers to the right. I have GOT to get away for a minute or I’ll go on some kind of spree. Blood and applesauce everywhere. Traumatized cows giving bad milk.

I look around for Cas. No sign of him, probably still in the orchard area or maybe using the bathroom or whatever. I decide I’ll just go take a look in that barn I saw earlier. Sit for a moment and just be away from everything. We have another hour so I know they won’t leave me behind, it’ll be fine. And If Cas does get upset that I left the group, he’ll just have to get over himself.

So why is my heart pounding like a jackhammer.

The door of the barn says “DO NOT ENTER, STAFF ONLY.” They don’t mean me. They mean, y’know, troublemakers. I’m awesome, they won’t mind if I go in. I smush myself under the chains on the door and—

And something smacks the HELL out of my ass, propelling me forward. I actually land on a well-placed bale of hay.

Hay is not as soft as it is in the movies. Fuck.

I’m sprawled over the hay bale and before I can get myself up I feel weight on the small of my back, holding me down. My feet aren’t quite on the ground so I can’t get any leverage; I freak for a minute, about to throw all of my weight toward getting the hell up OFF this hay bale and kicking the ass of who or whatever got me into this position, when I hear his voice:

“You just don’t listen, do you little boy?”

Cas. Fuck. He’s leaning on me, facing my feet; I can’t fucking move. I don’t know how to react now, do I force my way up or—

Before I can think another nasty _SMACK_ lands on my ass. It fucking hurts even through my jeans and it’s followed by several more before it stops. Oh HELL no, is Cas fucking spanking me??

He is. Cas is spanking me like a five-year old. I can’t even—what---!!!

“CAS?!? The fuck are you DOING!?!” His only response is more smacks. Harder smacks. Even through jeans and underwear this sucks, fucking OW!!!!

Cas, my friggin’ dorm R.A., is spanking me.

Over a hay bale. In a barn on an apple farm.

The fuck. This is like something from that awful fan-fiction my little sister reads about that show she likes. Next we’ll make love in the nice soft hay. That isn’t even nice and soft. I repeat: FUCK.

“CAS Let me the FUCK up!!” I throw myself backwards as hard as I can. Absolutely nothing happens. Cas is way, WAY stronger than I thought. I might be in trouble. I’m starting to panic--

But then...Cas has stopped spanking me. He’s actually drumming his fingers on my ass. Like he has all the time in the world.

“Careful little boy, you don’t want everyone out there to hear your whining and come running to see what all the fuss is about.” I can hear the smile in his voice. Shit, he’s right. I clamp my damn mouth shut and stop fighting. Maybe he’ll like that and let. Me. UP.

No such luck. Apparently he has more to say. A lot more.

“I’m tired of you acting like the rules apply to everyone but YOU, little boy.” _SMACK._

“Stop-OW!-calling me that!” The only answer I get is more swats. It’s really starting to burn, Cas isn’t playing around.  
“I’ll

_SMACK_

call you ‘little boy’  
_SMACK_ “OW!!”

as much as I like.”

_SMACK_ _SMACK_ “Oh OW Geez Cas!!” I’m trying to stay quiet but it’s starting to freakin’ _BURN_ . Cas does not care. Not even a little bit. My legs can’t help kicking the side of the hay.  
_SMACK_

“You ignore my messages instead of at least responding like an adult; you blatantly refuse to participate until you absolutely have to, then I have to get you up like a fifth-grader who doesn’t want to go to school. And THEN when we get here you look for every chance to sneak off to one of the only places you’re not _SMACK_ supposed _SMACK_ to GO.” _SMACK_ _SMACK_ _SMACK_.

That’s it. My ass is on fire and I give the only response I can at the moment:

“AAHHHHHH!!!!!!!”

“I can tell you’re a little preoccupied right now. That’s alright, I’ll just tell you what’s going to happen. You’re going to apologize for the way you’ve behaved—“

“Say What?? Kiss my-AAAAHHHH!!!!!” The hardest set of spanks lands on my poor burning ass and it’s all I can do to not scream like a little girl in a haunted house; as it is I’m praying nobody heard that last oh-so manly shriek. Cas stops again and for some reason this time I think I’ll let him finish his sentence.

“As I was _saying_ , you’re going to apologize to me. Then you’re going to go pick your own basket of apples and bring it to me. THEN I’ll sign off on your activity. Are we clear?”

‘We’re clear!” I’ll say damn near anything to get him to let me up at this point.

Plus I need him to sign me off.

Plus…I really am sorry. He’s right, he doesn’t deserve the dick way I’ve acted towards him.

Suddenly the weight is off my back. I scramble off that hay bale and stand there, huffing and bleary-eyed and not sure what to do next. Cas raises his left eyebrow and my belly does that flip again. I snap out of my haze.

“I’m…sorry, Cas. I really am.” And I mean it.

I should be charging him right now, ready to punch his face in. Hell I’m a little taller and a fair amount heavier than he is, I could probably take him and win. But I don’t want to.

What I want to do is crawl into his pocket and cry myself to sleep.

There is something seriously wrong with me.

The Dread Brow of Doom relaxes. Then Cas is hugging me. And I let him.

“Go to the tour guide and get a basket. We weren’t in here long but you don’t have much time. SCOOT.” He turns me and sends me out the way he sent me in here: with a swat to my ass. All four of my cheeks must be equally red at this point. I actually fucking scoot. The little grin I feel spreading, even though my eyes are glassy, can’t be helped.

 

I do not enjoy the bus ride home. It’s not unbearable. It’s not fun either.

Garth is sleeping this time, head on my shoulder and another cherry Jolly Rancher melting on his tongue. He picked apples, hung out with girls and our floor mates and a cow…Garth had a good day.

Cas is standing in front of the bus, holding on to the pole by the driver. As I got on the bus I saw the basket of apples I picked for him, in his seat. It made me…I dunno, proud for some reason. Like I did a good job.

Like I’m a good boy. HIS good boy.

I may need therapy.

Meanwhile Cas saw me squirming in my seat. Our eyes met for a just moment, and that evil bastard actually winked at me.

So maybe my heart skipped and my belly flipped. Still.

Bastard.

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I'm heading to the bathroom with my shower bucket; didn't get one this morning and I still reek of last night's party. And today in the, um, barn. As I'm closing our room door I see a note on our whiteboard.

I feel myself turning whiter than the board. Oh...oh no:

_"Mr. Winchester: please come by my room at 10pm to preview my brand spanking new speech on drinking and driving, thanks!-C."_

Why do I think it's absolutely not a request?

I already know I'll be there. What the hell has gotten into me?

Blue eyes. And a killer smile. And a nasty, evil hard hand.

I am so screwed.


	2. Green Boxers + A Red Bottom= Corner Time Blues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He needs to be spanked. Often. And by someone who knows how.
> 
> If I have my way, that someone’s going to be me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for being so generous with your comments! Shout-out to Deadmockingbirds for her signal-boost in GUW and for being the bestest DD muse I could ask for ♥

The cute, morose young girl from down the hall continues to lament about how college is nothing like she expected, and how she’s pretty sure her family isn’t hugging her cat, Uncle Fuzzynose, nearly as much as she told them to.

I’m doing my damndest to listen. That’s my job as R.A. and normally I do it very well.

Tonight all I can think of is how the brat known as Dean Winchester was meant to be over my knee.

I knew it before I even really knew his name. Watched him strutting around the dorm like the newly-crowned King of Bunker Hall, girls *and* guys falling all over themselves for him. He really is a good man, helpful when his friends are in trouble with one class or another or they just need someone to talk to. And even though he bosses that gangly roommate of his around terribly it’s obvious that no one better mess with the kid, their friendship is solid. He’s even decent to that pesky little wanna-be comedian, Gabriel, when even I think I’m going to harm him if he tells one more of those awful “dad jokes.” I admit, with that face and those eyes and being at least six feet tall, young dirty-blonde Mr. Winchester’s got the kind of charm about him that makes most people want to do his bidding. 

I am not most people. He brings out something…different…in me. I can’t explain it, exactly, I just know that I want to take care of him. And not the way you’d expect. Acknowledging his many good points in no way blinds me to the arrogance, the impish bluster that makes him think he can blow off classes or rehearsals or whatever else he doesn’t feel like doing. Like early morning apple picking. He believes he’s simply above it all. 

He needs to be spanked. Often. And by someone who knows how.

If I have my way, that someone’s going to be me. 

If this afternoon was any indication, I’m pretty sure I’m going to have my way. 

Believe it or not, it wasn’t my intent to spank him in that barn. All I was going to do was follow him and confront him. Put a good scare into him about trespassing where he didn’t belong, and throw in a good lecture about how he got home last night while I had his attention. He’s a good kid but he honestly seems to think he’s invincible. That his admittedly gorgeous smile and emerald eyes will get him anything he wants, allow him to break any rule. From what I can tell that’s likely been the case so far.  
Not anymore. Once I saw that spoiled little bubble-butt slide under the chains on that barn door that was IT. There was no way I wasn’t going to turn it the same shade of red as the barn itself. Let him complain to whoever would listen, at that moment I honestly didn’t care. All I saw was a beautiful boy…a boy I could love…who constantly flaunted rules that were made to keep him safe. Like not drinking and driving for God’s sake. And staying the hell out of barns that might have animals or equipment that could hurt him. The closer I got the more determined I was to teach him a lesson, until it was all I could do not to pull down those jeans and spank him bare-bottomed over that hay stack like the naughty child he was. I doubt he knows just how close he came to that today.

And what I plan to do tonight. We’ll see if he shows.

I have a feeling he will. From the way he did his best to avoid looking at me the entire ride home. The blush. The scurry past me off the bus. 

The fact that he never really tried to fight. Oh sure he struggled, somewhat…but not really. I’ve seen his muscle. I’ve seen him wrestle with his friends. Young Mr. Winchester is definitely strong. 

Consciously or not he chose to be a good boy. 

_My_ good boy. 

Because whether he knows it or not, he’s going to be mine. 

…”wouldn’t you?”

Dammit, she must have asked me a question. I have no idea how to answer so I take a stab in the dark.

“Of course Becky, I certainly would and so should you! Now if you’ll excuse me I really need to get my own studying done, I’m sure you understand…” Whatever I’m agreeing to puts a determined look in her eye. I see her out with a smile and glance at my phone. 

9:51pm. He’s got nine minutes. I’d better get things ready. 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Almost 10pm on a Saturday night. I should be out somewhere with a beer in one hand and somebody hot on my lap. Instead I’m pacing back and forth in my room, trying to ignore the image I keep getting of being on someone else’s lap. Over his lap, to be  
more accurate. And god knows he’s Somebody Hot. 

He’s gonna fucking spank me. Again. There’s no doubt in my mind. He knows I drove myself home last night. How I dunno, but he knows. And apparently he thinks it’s his job to punish me for it. I should go down to his room just to tell him to his high-  
and-mighty face to fuck ALL the way off. Who the fuck does he think he is?

And why am I wondering what you wear to have your ass beaten by a hot guy…?

This is bullshit. I am not going down there so he can freaking spank me.

I bet he’d like my green silk boxer-briefs. They make my eyes look even greener and we’re staying in so I’d think casual would be—THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH ME. 

There is no way I’m going down there. No way in hell. Not. Fucking. Happening.

 

I’m standing outside his door. White t-shirt and grey sweats. Barefoot. Yes, the green boxer-briefs too. Shut up.

Trying to make myself knock. Most of the floor is elsewhere, even Garth’s at Movie Night in the common room. Something with Hobbits in it, the Sherlock Hobbit I think…I’m stalling and I should probably stop because I don’t think Cas will be happy if I’m late—

THE DOOR’S OPENING. SHIT.

The only reason I’m still standing here is because of how insane I’d look running down this long-ass hallway. 

Cas is looking, well, hot. Just a black t-shirt and dark blue jeans but it works for him. Also barefoot, nobody really wears shoes around here.

Damn his eyes are blue…

“Come in Mr. Winchester, glad I didn’t have to come looking for you.” He smiles as he says it, but there’s this…edge. For a second I want to hide. But somehow I already know he’d find me. And what would happen when he did. He moves to the side to let me in. Again I find myself hurrying past him. Like he’s gonna swat me as I go by. 

Get it together Winchester, you’re eighteen years old. A muthafuckin’ ADULT. Act like it. 

“…Cas…?” Great, I sound like Justin Beiber on helium. I clear my throat and I’m about to try again when he holds a hand up, stopping me. 

“ Relax Dean, have a seat and let’s talk.” He goes and sits down in the center of the small sofa across from his bed, and waits for me to follow suit. I sit as far from him as possible. I’m not afraid of Cas, I like Cas. Even after this afternoon. Maybe even more because of this afternoon. (Again: shut up.)

I’m just…apprehensive. I don’t know what he’s going to do. The not-knowing is going to give me a stroke. As Bugs Bunny said: _it’s the suspense that gets me._

I expect…oh hell, I was expecting mayhem. For Cas to grab me, trying to hold me down again and spank my ass while yelling at me about driving home drunk last night. Instead we just…talk. He tells me about when he was my age (apparently he’s ten years older than I am, not just a few like I thought!) and how his good friend Hannah got behind the wheel after drinking, and now she’s “with the angels.” He puts in a short DVD the school gave him to show idiots like me; there’s some pretty gruesome accidents, all of which could have been prevented if the driver was sober. By the end of the movie I’m feeling a little ashamed. I tell Cas I get it, it won’t ever happen again. 

“Glad to hear it, Dean, I’d hate to have to report you for nonsense like that and I’d *really* hate for something to happen to you.” He’s smiling as he puts his hand out for me to shake, which I’m happy to do. I’m thinking maybe I’ll ask him to come watch the rest of the movie with Garth and me—

\--and the bastard pulls me right the fuck over his lap GODAMMIT I KNEW IT...!!!

Before I even know what happened he’s got my legs locked between his and my right arm up behind my back, my other arm trapped between my body and his. FUCK ME.

“CAS FOR FUCK’S SAKE!!! I SAID—“

“I know. You said it will never happen again. Let’s just be sure.”

And he proceeds to pull down my sweats and my boxers and just WHALE on my poor defenseless, already-tender bare ass. My face is up against the soft, stuffed arm of his sofa; I bury my face in it and just _SHRIEK_ like a girl. O my fucking WORD does this hurt. Above the chaos in my head It occurs to me that he can’t just be using his hand, the smacking sound isn’t right and it stings so, so bad…

“Wh-what the hell is that?? Cas what are you using to—to—“ I can’t say it I won’t say it fuck everybody I’m NOT saying it—

“…Oh this? This is what I use to SPANK naughty little boys who risk their lives for no good reason. I’ll show you what I used to SPANK you when we’re done with your SPANKING. But that won’t be for a while, this SPANKING is nowhere near finished.” 

You wouldn’t think my face could burn hotter than my ass right now. You would be wrong. Who knew that word could have so much power over me. Learn something new every day. Meanwhile Cas is showing NO signs of slowing down, I feel fucking tears on my face. Didn’t I say I was an adult before? I’m pretty sure that was me…

I’m so busy crying like a little kid lost at the zoo that I don’t even realize Cas has stopped. My ass is fucking THROBBING. I feel like Han in ‘Empire Strikes Back’ after they let him off the Scan Grid: _“He never even asked me any questions.”_

He’s rubbing my back. It feels good. When I kill him in half I’ll be quick.

“Calm down, you’re done. And now we both know we won’t have this issue again.” His voice is…nice. It finds the places in my brain, and my heart I guess (once again: SHUT UP), that soothe me. Even though I’m pretty sure you could fry an egg on my ass right now, I do feel better. Relieved.

Like I just paid something I owed. 

Cas is unlocking my legs. I realize he let go of my arm already. I must have kept it behind my back anyway. Huh.

“C’mon, stand up for me.” He helps me, wobbly legs and all, to my feet. Stands beside me with one hand on my arm, rubbing up and down. Here we are again, Cas just spanked my ass and I *should* be trying to rip various vital parts off of his person. 

Instead not only did I let him do it, I’m letting him walk me over O HOLY FUCK NO HE’S NOT STANDING ME IN THE FUCKING CORNER. I wrench my arm away from him, nearly toppling over in the process since my fucking pants and underwear are still around my knees.  
“  
No way Cas, enough with this little kid crap!! I let you…do what you just did—“

“I spanked you, little boy. You had it coming and you know it.” 

“STOP CALLING ME THAT, I’m not a kid anymore and—“

Cas whirls me around by my arm and whacks me HARD on my right fucking thigh just under my ass. I hiss and almost fall again as I try to move forward and *away* from that hard hand, tears starting up again. Then he lets me go and stands there, staring me down. I’m a little taller than Cas but somehow he’s staring down at me. Arms crossed and the Dred Brow sky-high.

I feel like the little boy I keep denying that I am.

Suddenly Cas is right In front of me. He puts his hand on the back of my neck and draws me to him for what I’m telling you is the best kiss I have ever had. I never close my eyes to kiss. I do for Cas.

It’s slow and deep. Cas tastes like someone made candy from starlight and roller coaster rides. He pulls away. I want more. Instead there’s a finger lifting my chin to look him in the eye. His look is loving, but VERY firm.

“Behind you is the door. You can go right now if you want to, I won’t stop you. No hard feelings, we can go on as we were before today. Behind me is the empty corner where you need to go stand, until I say otherwise, if you choose to stay. Your choice will tell us both what you want.”

I want him. God help me, I do. I want…this. Sore ass and all. But there is no way I’m standing in the corner. No way in hell. Not. Fucking. Happening.

So of course I’m standing in the goddamned corner. Hands up if you're surprised. Now put your hand down idiot, you're embarrassing yourself.

Cas wouldn’t even let me pull my pants up to walk over here. “Leave them down,” he said, in this voice I already know not to argue with. I still can’t completely stop crying and my nose is running. I feel like the village idiot’s stupider brother. 

The corner is boring as fuck.

Why did I allow this? How the hell did I even get to this point…!? The minute the smug bastard grabbed me I should’ve knocked him on his Cas ass.

Cas. Ass. Casass. 

Casass Casass Casass LOL it rhymes that’s funny NO IT’S NOT FOCUS YOU DUMBASS.

Dumbass. Casassdumbass HA HA HA HA HAAAA--!!!

I am losing my fucking mind.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Cas comes up behind me and turns me so I’m facing him. Crowds me until my bottom is up against the walls, which _hurts_ and makes more tears. He has a hand on either side of me, pinning me between himself and the corner. He's so close. I could still punch his face in if I wanted. All I want is for him to kiss me again. Then take me to his bed and make everything all better. I know he could.

Instead he wants to talk.

“Out there you can be Big Bad Dean Winchester, at least within reason. In here? You’re mine. Understand what that means, little boy. Once you’re through that door I will deal with you as I see fit. And I warn you: if your behavior out there warrants a sore bottom, that’s what will happen in here. You will keep your grades up or I will spank you. You will attend ALL your classes and rehearsals, or give me a damn good reason why you’re missing one. Or I will spank you. You will never EVER put yourself in harm’s way, or you’ll wish all I did was spank you. Are we clear?”

I nod. That’s all I can do. If I try to speak I may combust or something. Damn. 

“Cas..?” He’s using his thumb to wipe tears off my cheek. I kiss that thumb. I want to do more than that.

“Hmm…?” He seems to like my mouth on his thumb. Maybe…?

“Can I, y’know…stay?”

“No.”

“NO??” I, um, was not expecting that. 

“No. Not tonight. You’re going back to your room and you’re going to bed. Consider that the last of your punishment for driving home after drinking last night, and for this afternoon, and for all the nonsense we both know you’ve pulled since the beginning of the semester.” He’s being strict but his eyes are sparkling. I consider arguing. Somehow I don’t think I’d win. In fact I know I’d really, REALLY lose. Crap. 

I pout as he slowly, carefully slides my boxers and sweats back up over my still-blazing ass. I pout all the way to the door. I pout when he kisses me goodnight. I pout all the way back to my own fucking room and my own cold, lonely-ass bed. GARTH is still out but I have to go to bed. On a Saturday night. With a sore rear-end, so sore I have to sleep on my belly. 

I still feel like the luckiest sumbitch on the planet. 

I never did find out what exactly he..used. I’ll ask him tomorrow. Because I am SO seeing him tomorrow. 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I’m trying to finish up a design project but I can’t concentrate.  


After the cutest bare-bottomed shuffle I have ever seen. rubbing that fireball-red bubble the entire way, I watched Dean Winchester stand in the corner. Not something you see every day. Well, not yet.

Some wouldn’t allow rubbing of a punished bottom, but I found it adorable. All he needed was footed pajamas and a stuffed bear. Maybe even a soother. 

I’ll save those for another day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: Sam and Gabe and Crowley , you'll like how they fit in to Bunker Hall :-)


	3. Easy Like Sunday Morning...Not...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Um, Cas, I’m really sore from before still and…
> 
> “…and?” He’s enjoying this, damn him.
> 
> “..and so I was hoping you wouldn’t, y’know…”
> 
> “What, spank you? I wouldn’t dream of it. Not until you ask me. Nicely.” He’s got that Cas Smirk on, the one makes me ornery when I know I shouldn’t be…like a total idiot I put on my snarkiest voice.
> 
> “That’s not gonna happen. Ever.” He’s still smirking but now the Dred Brow is rising. Uh-oh. Suddenly this backseat feels entirely too small.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thank you to everyone who's given kudos and all the lovely comments, love you guys!!!
> 
> No Crowley yet, his character changed a bit, but he'll be here soon :)

I’ve been lying here staring at the underside of Garth’s bunk for what has to be over an hour. 

I keep replaying yesterday and last night through my mind. Like maybe if I think about it long enough it’ll all suddenly make perfect fucking sense.

I should just turn over so I’m not lying on my still-sore ass, but there’s something about the way it’s throbbing, just enough to remind me of what happened, that’s making me stay as I am. 

For those who need a refresher: my R.A. spanked the living crap out of me. TWICE. 

Stood me in the goddamned corner. And kissed me. 

And then sent me to bed. ALONE. 

I honestly can’t decide if I was attacked too much or not enough. I really am going fucking insane.

For reasons I still can’t figure out, I fought him on _none_ of that; not really. Let him not only push me around but assault my physical person…! This ain’t right. Dunno what the hell was wrong with me yesterday…probably just exhausted and still hungover…but I’ve had twelve hours of sleep (don’t judge me; forced apple picking and having your ass lit up a few times will wipe you out). My wits are now officially about me. I’m going to march my grown adult ass down to his room and DEMAND we hash this out!

…right after I shower and brush my teeth and pick out something to wear. Gotta look good for the, um, confrontation. I SAID DON’T JUDGE ME.

I spend another twenty minutes in my room, figuring out exactly what I want to say. And trying over and over again to leave the damned room; I keep finding little things that just _have_ to be done *right now*, like finding the CD I dropped behind my dresser last month. Shut up, I might need to listen to Staind again soon; It’s Been Awhile. Ha! I’m hilarious. 

Ok FINE, enough stalling…here I go to see Cas and tell him to go fuck himself…

That mirror is seriously filthy. I’ll just wipe it down before I go. Can’t have a dirty mirror up in this bitch, right??

…ten minutes after that there is nothing else I can do to stall. I even made Garth’s bed, for fuck’s sake. I take a deep breath and make myself head out. Let’s get this over with.

(dunno if I want it over do I want it over maybe I want it under what does that even _mean_ damn he has nice eyes)

I pass Sam and Gabe’s room; their door is open and Garth is in there. Garth sees me going by and comes after me. I actually start up a little faster, no time right now I'll lose my nerve--

“Dude slow down, Castiel told me to give you this!”

Wait whut. 

I stop and Garth hands me a sealed, small white envelope with MR. WINCHESTER scrawled on the front before heading back to gaming with Sam and Gabe. I stare at it dumbly, for some reason I am totally befuddled. He has the cell numbers of everybody in the dorm, he could’ve just texted….and now my heart is beating that much faster. 

I look around, no idea what’s in it but somehow I think I should open it alone. No one in the hall so I tear it open to find…

A purple Post-it note. Folded. I take that out and open it. 

**_“Working today. Later. Behave.”_**

Who the hell does he think…this is bullshit…!!

It smells like him. He must’ve put a little of his cologne on the note.

That’s why he didn’t just text. That’s…dammit that’s...wow.

And now I fucking miss him. I don’t want to wait to see him. UGH.

No wonder he calls me little boy.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I start wandering back to my room when Garth calls out to me: “Dude come hang out, we got Skyrim and pizza!” After debating with my sorry self I realize I may as well hang with those guys for awhile, rehearsal isn’t for another few hours and I can NOT just sit in my room waiting for Cas….yes, yes I could. But I’m not going to. I can try to figure out just what the hell I’m doing while I inhale a slice or three and watch these clowns do their thing.

I’m in the room for five seconds before I want to kill Gabe. As usual.

“CHESTY! You honor us!” He spares me a glance and what I have to admit is a genuine smile before his eyes are re-glued to the screen. We begin what happens every damn time I come in here:

“Don’t call me ‘Chesty’, Gabe.”

“Whatever FailChester. What do you call a bad Italian neighborhood?”

“Leave me the fuck alone Gabe…”

“WHAT DO YOU CALL IT CHESTY??” 

“Let him tell it Dude, you know he won’t shut the hell up until you answer him.” Sam from his bunk, where he’s reading. He’s right, meh.

“Fine asshole, what DO you call a bad Italian neighborhood?” 

“THE SPAGHETTO!!” 

“Fuck you Gabe.” 

I can’t help grinning though, he’s so damn proud of himself. Geez. Garth almost spurts grape soda through his fucking nose; this is why those two fools are friends. 

Sam emerges from his bunk on the bottom; like me he’s bigger than his roomie, with these two it’s even more ridiculous: Gabe’s around 5’5 while Sam’s about 6’4 and *built*, with arms and legs like fucking tree limbs; seriously his reach is insane. I’m 6’2 and I still like having him get books for me off the higher library shelves. I like Sam; we bonded over having batshit roomies and now we talk so much he’s almost like a brother to me. He’s double majoring in Early Childhood Ed and Child Psych, and no matter what’s going on he’s always the voice of reason. He talks to us like a long-haired hippie Dr. Phil, but it works for him. I kinda want to talk to him about…well, whatever the hell is going on with Cas and me. I can’t. Not now anyway. For all I know it’s against the school rules for Cas to be involved with a student, not that any of my friends would rat on us but still. And I don’t even know if we *are* involved or whatever…no, that’s not true. After last night we’re definitely…something. 

Tonight I’m gonna find out what.

After wasting entirely too much time with that crew I realize I’m fucking LATE for rehearsal, SHIT; Cas said not to miss any classes or rehearsals or—and I’m already acting like he’s fucking in charge of me; this is NOT okay I can do whatever the hell I want!

…still I’d better get my ass to the theater; I got the part so I need to show up, right? It’s got nothing to do with a hot, cranky, blue-eyed R.A. who thinks he can tell me what to do. 

Nothing at all. I was going anyway. 

Like a Good Boy.

God help me.

 

Gotta say I’m glad I didn’t blow off rehearsal; I really like this one-act we’re doing and I needed the chance to run lines. It’s a weird, awesome story called _Sing to Me Through Open Windows_ ; I play a young kid named Andrew who hangs out every spring with a magician and an evil clown (seriously!). They’re all different parts of the same guy at different times of his life, it’s actually a beautiful and kinda sad thing. Our director, Balthazar, loves me and I have to say I’m great with my part; that’s gotta be the only reason he hasn’t recast my never-showing-up ass. He still tore me a new one as soon as I got here, can’t say I blame him. I promised it wouldn’t happen again; yeah, I always say that, but this time…it’s different. I know it’s stupid, but I swear just knowing a certain Somebody wants me to do things the way I’m supposed to is already making things different in my head. 

And just as we’re wrapping up for the night I see him. 

Leaning against the back seats. Waiting for me. 

Geezus my whole body is happy to see him. If I had a tail it would be fucking wagging.

I’m becoming pathetic.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

I thought we’d walk back to the dorm, but Cas had another, much better idea. When we get outside the theater his car is there; it’s old but it’s awesome, a late 70’s deal that somebody tricked out. Somehow it suits him, though I have to give him shit:

“What, is pimping how you pay for school?”

“Yes and you’re my new Bottom Bitch.” 

Damn he didn’t miss a beat. I may already love this guy. NO I DIDN'T JUST SAY THAT...fuck me I'm falling...

We drive away from campus, apparently he has the night off until much later. He asks about my day, the play, and other small talk kinda stuff. I like that he seems honestly interested. We get to the lake that’s not far from school, and Cas surprises me by pulling a nice little cooler from the backseat and a blanket. I spread the blanket out by the light of his headlights and as we sit he opens the basket. 

There’s a few sandwiches from a deli, a few bottles of Coke, and AN APPLE FUCKING PIE.

“How did you know I love pie??” I ask him as I dive for it. He moves it, laughing at me.

“I didn’t,” he says, putting it behind him and giving me a sandwich. “I made it from the apples I had you pick yesterday. Now eat your sandwich, you need to finish one before you have any.” He’s smiling but I can tell he’s stone serious. 

He made it. Cas MADE me a pie. From the apples he had me pick.

If I wasn’t falling in love before…damn. 

As we’re eating and enjoying the lake, it starts raining a little. We gather up the blanket and food and end up in the backseat; neither of us wants to leave yet. We’re watching the rain and talking more about the play.

And then Cas is taking off my shirt. And I’m taking off his. And we’re all over each other. The backseat is an old school bench seat and we take advantage of it, he’s laying me down and my jeans are gone and so are his and underwear is flying then there’s just warm skin and his lips and his hands are so STRONG...

And he stops. He’s just looking down at me. I can’t read where his mind is, his look is just…determined. About what I have no idea.

“..Cas?” I don’t want to stop. Not yet. I don’t think he does either...

“I want you, Mr. Winchester. But not like this. When we truly make love for the first time it’s going to be in a nice, warm, roomy bed.” He leans down and kisses me again, long and lovely. I want to pout, throw a tantrum even…but he’s got the right idea. I nod and start reaching for my jeans.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He says, pushing me back down. Not too gently either. Alrighty then.

“Uh…you said—“

“I said we’re not going to make love right now. I didn’t say we wouldn’t be engaging in other activities.” That is THE most predatory look I have ever seen that wasn’t on a lion or a vampire. I like it. I like it a _lot_. I go to kiss him some more.

“Nope." he says, leaning away. "Not yet. First we have to deal with the fact that I *know* you were late to rehearsal, little boy.”

How does he KNOW every damn thing?? Shit! 

“I know, I’m sorry.” I wonder if my classic “Dean Gets Away With Murder” cute face will work on Cas.

No. No it does not. The even sterner look he’s giving me makes my asscheeks tingle. They know there’s danger in these here parts. Time to, um, negotiate.

“Um, Cas, I’m really sore from before still and…"

“…and?” He’s enjoying this, damn him.

“..and so I was hoping you wouldn’t, y’know…”

“What, spank you? I wouldn’t dream of it. Not until you ask me. Nicely.” He’s got that Cas Smirk on, the one makes me ornery when I know I shouldn’t be…like a total idiot I put on my snarkiest voice.

“That’s not gonna happen. Ever.” He’s still smirking but now the Dred Brow is rising. Uh-oh. Suddenly this backseat feels entirely too small. 

And then he’s ON me, my GOD he’s so fast! Before I can even ask him “what the HELL?!?” Cas has me flipped onto my belly; he’s done some damn Kung-Fu thing with my arms so they’re both behind me, locked between his front and my back; I remember he told us he wrestled in high school and did some martial arts grappling stuff...shit i can’t move ANYTHING; even my head doesn’t have much mobility and he’s tangled my legs up in his—

And then I feel his hand snaking over to my right side. No. Oh FUCK NO, he’s not gonna—

And the world just fucking explodes as Cas starts tickling the everloving SHIT outta me; there’s a lot in this world I can take like a man but this ain’t one of ‘em--! 

“AAHHHnononobullshitbullshitBULLSHITFOULFOULFUCKINGFOUL-!-!-!” He’s somehow smushed my arms together so both of his hands are free and he’s got one in my fucking left armpit O GOD O GOD O NO—“CAS F-F-FUCKIN’STOPPIT!” Moronic laughter and Muppet-sounds I am not proud of are pouring out of me, I can’t fight can’t think dunno whether to shit or go blind…maybe being ‘nice’ will stop this—

“PLEASE CAS, st-st-STOP I SAID PLEASE C’MON SERIOUSLY--!!” This cannot continue or I am not responsible for the amount of pee that will make an appearance--!

All he does is move the hand that was torturing my fucking right side up to my right pit, FUCK ME NOT BOTH—I’m screaming I’m laughing so goddamned hard; He’s a rat bastard but he’s a fucking master at this.

“You know what to ask for.” 

He’s not even breathing hard while I honestly think I may die; Cas is trying to make me die and I won’t even be able to admit to anybody in Heaven what killed me…the fuck does he want me to say???

Oh.

Oh for fuck’s sake this man is evil.

Just when I want to tell him to go to hell he starts using his chin to tickle between my fucking shoulder blades, who even DOES that?? 

That’s it, game over, I have officially fucking LOST.

“PLEASE SPA-SPANK ME…!” Ratbastardsumbitch…

It stops. Oh my fucking god thank you. I take the deepest breath possible as I feel him maneuver us, so he’s sitting up with me over his lap. Please, oh please be nice I’m still sore from last night…

He smacks each cheek. He’s gentle, rubbing his fingertips over the skin in between smacks. A few more smacks mixed with rubbing and I’m getting harder than calculus, I’m in a haze of wanting him and I don’t know how long before I explode all over the place. 

And then he’s sliding his fingertips all over my ass, as lightly as he can; it tickles like fucking CRAZY and I’m about to scramble the hell up off his lap when he grabs my cock right at the base. Swings one leg over both of mine, tickling my ass with one hand and pumping my cock with the other. My mind is fucking toast. I’m just lying there, laughing softly, squirming and rolling side to side as much as his grip on my cock will allow; Cas starts running a fingertip up and down the crack of my ass and suddenly he’s pinching that horribly fucking ticklish place where my ass meets my thigh and I just LOSE it, I’m laugh-sobbing as I spurt and spurt and I’m pretty sure I yell his name before I can’t remember anything else; I’m falling down down down there's only Cas… 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Butterflies are all over me. I feel their wings everywhere and I can’t stop laughing but I love it.

When my eyes open again I’m lying in the backseat, Cas is wrapped around me. There’s a blanket over us, heavy and fluffy and so warm I don’t think I ever want to get up again even if we have to lay in the back of this car forever. I realize Cas’ hands are slowly opening and closing, his fingers light over my ribs but not *quite* enough to tickle; the butterflies I was dreaming about. It feels _amazing_. There’s always the chance he’ll start really tickling though, so I’m mostly relaxed but there’s this little feeling of suspense that keeps me kinda breathless…but we have to talk…

“Um, Cas?” 

“Mmmm…?” His breath against my hair. Mmmm is right.

“Shouldn’t we, y’know, talk?” 

“About what?” 

“About what??” Is he serious? I try to turn over to look at him but he’s holding me so close and so tight that I honestly can’t. 

“About…this! You and me! What we’re doing and what we just DID and--” 

“What’s there to talk about? He holds me even more snugly, which I didn’t think was possible. I’m melting into him all over again. Still…”Seriously Cas, we have to talk about…stuff…don’t we? We can’t just act like this is all normal…!” 

At that he completely stills for a split second, then I feel him shift just enough that his lips are right against my ear. 

“Fuck ‘normal’ ”, he growls (no really, actual growling up in here; it sends a shiver all the way to my soul. By way of my cock, which never really left half-chub anyways.) I realize he never used the 'F' word. He's serious. 

“I want you. So you’re mine now. Mine to make love to, and mine to play with (he swirls a finger around my damn bellybutton and a stupid squeak comes out of me dammit), and mine to care for. Until you tell me I can’t have you anymore. My job is to make you so happy that you never tell me that. End of story.” He kisses the shell of my ear, sending a ticklish ripple all though me. I almost forget what I want to say. Almost.

“But CAS, we can’t just…you can’t…”

“I can’t what?” His voice is approaching Cranky Cas, I instantly want to back down but we *have* to talk…!

“You *know* what, I’m not a kid and I have to make my own decisions, I can’t let you—“ 

At that he turns me over and rolls on top of me, giving me a look so fucking INTENSE that I’d run away from it if that was remotely possible. Bunnies must feel like this right before they get eaten by a wolf.

(Do wolves eat bunnies? Fuck if I know, just trust me Cas looks SCARY.)

“You don’t “let” me do a damned thing, little boy. When you act like an adult I’ll most definitely treat you like one. When the bratty little refugee from the third grade named Dean that I keep seeing running around in your clothes comes out to play he’ll go right over my knee. Obviously he likes it there since he keeps coming back for more.” He slides a hand underneath me and pinches the underside of my ass right where he knows (now, dammit) that I’m stupidly ticklish; I arch up as I let out this ridiculous gasp-moan-squeal combo that makes me feel like an idiot but gives him SUCH a predatory grin; my instantly mithril-hard cock slides against his own divine hardness and we’re kissing his kisses and _his fingers o dear god AHH_

I’m supposed to be standing up for my rights. And I will. 

Later. 

Right now, I think I need to be a Good Boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was actually in "Sing To Me" in college, i played Loveless the Clown and it's still the most fun I've ever had onstage; read the play if you get the chance, it's wonderful :)


	4. To Infinity And Beyond!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You will not throw tantrums at me, young man. My ‘Big Dean’ will speak to me with a civil tongue like an adult or my ‘Little Dean’ will end up over my knee. Every time."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to everyone who's commented and for all the kudos, you guys rock! A little somethin' in this chapter for my sweet muse Miss Mock, hope you like it!

Something is going on with Dean. 

Garth has noticed it too, even my doofus roomie Gabriel thinks something’s… different… about our self-appointed Fearless Leader. I probably shouldn’t be concerned; Dean seems happy, *very * happy actually. We’ve all caught him gazing off into space with a look so dreamy you’d swear he’s in love or something. We’d know about it if he’d met someone though, and he tells me everything. Plus he’d be bragging alllll about it, and definitely showing the girl or guy off every chance he got. Instead he’s just been weird. No, that’s not quite right, he’s been… _good._ Going to nearly all of his classes, he always makes sure somebody sober is driving when we’re out partying…hell, I know for a fact he’s been at every rehearsal for that crazy play he’s in with the creepy-ass clown (GOD do I hate clowns). And get this: he’s been doing his assignments. _On time._ This is unheard of. Usually he makes up some lame excuse about pneumonia or his dog dying and Winchester Charms his way into extensions, but the last few weeks Garth says all Dean wants to do is get his work done (!). He’s gotten pretty tight with Castiel, the R.A. and spends a lot of time in Cas’ room studying; Cas was a theatre major like Dean for undergrad so he must be helping Dean with his classes. and Cas' opinion must mean a lot to Dean; he acts like the guy is God or something. This afternoon we talked him into skipping a Psych 101 lecture to see SPECTRE with us; he really didn’t want to but Gabe called him a wuss-pussy and that was it. I’m in the same class and I didn’t care, but Dean nearly hyperventilated when we first suggested it but then *insisted* we go. Again, weird. And he was acting bizzaro the whole time; one minute he was twitchy and nervous, looking over his shoulder like someone might see him there, the next minute he was even louder and rowdier than his usual self. Like he had something to prove. At one point I even whispered to him to chill and he hissed “I’m a grown-ass man!”, whatever the hell that means. He was so edgy he forgot to eat his popcorn. Garth horked it and added Jolly Ranchers. Gross.

That night we're talking about the movie in the common room, and when Cas walks in I swear Dean turns a new shade of pale. He keeps trying to get Gabe to change the subject but Gabe is too into his train of thought to get derailed…Cas seems very interested though:

“So you all went to see Spectre this afternoon? How was it?” Garth and Gabe proceed to fill Cas in while I find myself darting glances at Dean, who looks like he wants to be anywhere else on the Earth. He's sinking further and further in his chair until Cas turns his attention that way:

“And Dean? Did you like the movie?” Dean jumps a little at his name but then plays it off like he isn’t freaked out by… whatever is freaking him out. Cas is obviously into what Dean has to say, he's looking so hard at Dean that again I almost think something's wrong. I shrug that off though, it’s not like Cas would care if Dean missed a class or whatever… meanwhile Dean gets even weirder, it's like he doesn't know how to answer the question or something; then Just as he's about to, Cas puts a hand up and stops him:

“You know what, tell me when I see you later; I just remembered we were going to go over your lines for the play, you can bring along the notes from the class you missed today; shouldn’t be a problem for you to have them by then, right?” Dean kind of blinks and nods. For just a second I swear he looks like he's about to, well, cry. Seriously! But then it's gone and his normal ‘Dean’ face is back, swagger and all. “No problem Casshole, see you around nine?” Garth and Gabe cackle like hyenas at “Casshole”, I crack up myself; Castiel’s eyes narrow just a little I notice, he's smiling but suddenly I'm glad I'm not the one who called him that. There's something about Cas that makes me never want to be on his bad side. Anyway he ambles off, whistling. Ah well, if he was annoyed I imagine he’ll let Dean know. Probably mention it later in private.

We head back to Gabe’s and my room, Gabe and Garth want to game for awhile and I’m hoping for a chance to talk to Dean; find out just what the hell is going on with him. I have to promise him that I can get today’s psych notes from a girl in our class, Becky; she’s got a ‘thing’ for me and doesn’t mind letting me copy her stuff for studying. That seems to make him less anxious (Winchester anxious about class notes; again, _weird_ ) but he’s still pacing what little floor we have; he can’t seem to relax and Gabe does not help by spouting off one of his awful freaking jokes:

“Hey Chesty, what’s the difference between a piano, a tuna, and glue?”

“I have no idea Gabe, fuck off.”

“…you can tuna piano but you can’t piano a tuna!”

Groans from all of us, even Garth. Then it hits Dean: “wait, what about the glue?”

“I knew you’d get stuck on that.”

“FUCK YOU GABE.” 

I can’t help it, I knock the little shit upside the head with my book; he’s too busy laughing at his own heinous joke to even retaliate. Dean goes back to pacing while he watches the G-men play Fallout 3 or 4 or whatever, I’m about to quietly ask him what’s up when those two start talking smack:

“You’re gettin’ seriously spanked dude!”

“Screw you Fitzgerald, you’re the one gettin’ spanked today!”

“…’fraid not my friend, if anyone’s gettin’ spanked today it’s—“

“STOP FUCKING SAYING THAT!!!” Dean, in the middle of the room, looking like somebody just slapped him with a dead fish.

We all stare at him, we can't help it; now he's blushing like he wants the floor to open up and just take him in one bite. The silence lasts for a good five seconds before Gabe sputters:

“What the fuck is up your ass Failchester??” 

and I know Garth and I were thinking basically the same thing. Minus the Failchester part. 

Dean looks at me like he wants to tell me something, then changes his mind. “I’m just wiped out you guys, up too late last night I guess. Imma go chill for awhile, catch up later.” We agree to meet up to head over to the dining hall for dinner in a few hours and when Dean heads out I’m right behind him; I want to know what the hell.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

“No dude, not leaving you alone til you tell me what the hell is going on with you.” 

We're in my room; Sam has his bitchface on, his long-ass arms folded, meaning he’ll be relentless as fuck unless I tell him… something.

“Ok Mom, fall back. I…kinda met somebody. You can’t tell anybody, not even Garth and especially not Gabe.” Sam’s face immediately morphs into sixteen-year old girl with good gossip. Here we go. 

“Seriously? That’s excellent! Who is she? Or he, or...or whatever, how the hell have you been seeing someone without us knowing?” Shit, now i gotta lie.

“You don’t know him, he’s, um, older. We text and Skype a lot.” Sam digests this, giving me that Sam-Look that I swear sees right into my soul. I’m hoping he buys it; I hate not being up front, sorry Sammy; I’m just not ready to share whatever-the-fuck  
Cas and I are doing, even with my man Sam. I see him thinking, his "Dr. Phil and Sherlock had a baby" mystery-solving face, and suddenly it looks like a big-ass light bulb goes on over his head:

“Wait, is that why you’ve been going to your classes and crap? To make your guy happy?”

Dude you have no fucking idea.

“…something like that. It makes him happy when I have my shit together.” At least that part’s not a fib...

Meanwhile he’s over the fucking moon for me. “You like him a lot then, don’t you?” Sam really looks at me with the best friend face; I can definitely be honest this time. 

“Yeah Sammy, I really do.” 

But later, the closer it gets to 9pm the madder I get. Talking to Sammy made me realize that after all these weeks I STILL don’t understand how the hell I got into this…thing…with Cas. He’s not my boyfriend, at least I don’t think he is and he hasn’t asked to be. He damn sure ain’t my father—why the fuck am I letting him tell me what to do??

_because he’s gorgeous and he smells like what I bet Legolas smells like and he makes me better at All The Things I love him I think he loves me_

This is ridiculous. I have to get a fucking grip on myself, I’m eighteen years old and I can’t have some dude just deciding he’s gonna punish me whenever he thinks he should.

Even if the idea of never being over his knee again makes me want to cry and write sad-ass Taylor Swift songs in a dark closet. 

No, enough is enough, I’m getting addicted to whatever the fuck we are and that can’t be a good thing. Not letting him distract me this time, I’m telling him that I’m not a little boy and he’s got no right to tell me what to do and—

…and I better go do this now before the sappy part of my brain screaming NO DUMBASS HE LOVES YOU takes over. 

At exactly 8:59pm I’m thumping on Cas’ door. I’ve gotten myself good and outraged so I don’t forget I’m mad as soon as he smiles at me. He opens his door and I storm right past him, launching right into my awesome “take no bullshit” speech: 

“Goddammit Cas all I did was skip ONE class, it’s not even one where they take attendance! I got notes so it’s not like I won’t be ready for the exam, I just wanted to go with my friends so I did! It’s not a big deal, you don’t need to…I don’t fucking need to pay for that! You’re not my dad and you’re not my boyfriend and you DON'T get to tell me what the fuck to do and --” I turn to look at him, ready to keep defending myself. 

Cas is just standing by the closed door, looking at me. He’s calm. He does that little head-tilt thing of his and nods slightly to himself, like he just decided something. I have no idea what that means but I don’t like it. 

“Are you done?”

I nod curtly, breathing hard, wary because I don’t know what happens next. I hate not knowing what happens next when ‘next’ might be anything with Cas.

“Good,” he says, crossing over to his closet, “because I agree.”

…whut.

“You… you’re not mad? About the movie…?” Cas smiles a little as he’s taking a long bag from his closet. One of those bags you use to take a suit somewhere…I’m too surprised by the non-Cranky Cas to focus on that. Cas puts the-garment bag, that’s what it is!- on the bed and comes over to me. Puts a hand on each of my shoulders and looks me square in the eye.

“What did I tell you about missing classes or rehearsals?” 

“That I better not, unless I could give you a good reason.” I can hear the slight pout in my voice; just being near Cas can send me towards little boy-ness, god…this is why we can’t keep doing this…right? 

“I think wanting to be with your friends can count as a good reason. Especially if it won’t affect your grade. And it won’t, will it.” That was not a question; his eyes are suddenly very… definite. I’d’ve backed up a step if he didn’t have such a firm grip on my shoulders. I feel like Tweety Bird when Sylvester is trying to nicely get him into the oven.

“No Cas, I have great notes and Sam and I study for that class all the time; it’s all good I promise.” I mean that, I really do. Cas smiles, his eyes more Sweet Cas than the Cas-inator. I feel myself let go of the tension I was holding, it’s looking like I can discuss this with him instead getting spanked like a six-year old for once. That should make me happy...

Cas gives my shoulders a squeeze before heading back toward his bed. He picks up the garment bag and gently shakes it out. Turns and… oh shit I know that face…

“Um, what’s in the bag Cas, you get a new suit…?” _Why is he ALWAYS between me and the damn door??_

“Nope, not a new suit. This is something nice and new for **you**. Take off your clothes please.” He starts unzipping the bag. I don’t know what’s in that bag but suddenly I want to be miles and miles from here, I glance toward the door again—Cas notices and the Cas-inator face is back. Fucking oops.

“Where are you, little boy?” Shit, not that voice--!

“In your room.” 

“…and that means?”

“That means...I’m yours.” 

Saying it out loud, I don’t want to argue. I want him. Just that much more than I want to run and hide.

“Good boy. Now stop eyeballing that door and Take. Off. Your. CLOTHES.” He takes a step toward me as if he's going to help. I really really don't think I'd like the way he'd help.

In seconds everything’s in a pile beside me. I’m naked before him, and I know damn well that whatever he tells me to do, I’m going to do it. 

But then Cas undoes the bag and lifts out—NOPE NYET NEIN NOT FUCKING HAPPENING—

He’s holding up a pair of fucking footy pajamas. In my fucking size. Oh my fucking god.

 **THEY HAVE BUZZ FUCKING LIGHTYEAR ALL OVER THEM.** Why that messes me up even more I have no idea but it fucking DOES.

“No WAY Cas, don’t even think about—“ and like freakin’ lightning he’s got me by the arms; he sweeps my legs (what the HELL) and we fall to the floor; he’s holding me so it doesn’t hurt when we land and he’s on top of me, his jeans cool and smooth against my naked legs and my…oh god…he’s looking right into my eyes and his lips are so damn close and I know I should fight but I--

“Don't even think about what?” He murmurs, his look so intense I’m falling upwards into nothing but blue. “About how you had no intention of telling me where you were this afternoon? About how you didn’t even give me the chance to tell you that I had no problem with it, you were just going to hide it like the naughty little boy you constantly claim not to be?” He’s stroking my hair now, his denim-covered knee is putting just enough pressure between my legs that I can’t help bucking up towards him a little…geezus what he does to me--! 

“For your information, all I was going to do was tell you that I was fine with you skipping that class. Maybe stand you in the corner just for a little while, for planning on keeping it from me. I consider that a lie by omission and I won’t tolerate it, but since we hadn’t established that a bit of corner-time would have been enough.” He kisses me, it’s deep and good and everything awesome in life…but then he takes me by the chin and Cranky Cas is looking down at me, o god….

“The problem is that you didn’t come in here like an adult who wanted to talk. No, you decided to rant and fuss and tantrum. Obviously my little boy needs some _serious_ attention.”

Well when you put it like that…dammit…still, freakin’ Buzz Lightyear pajamas…?? No fucking way. Not fucking happening.

 

These are softer than I thought they’d be. 

(Of course I’m wearing the damn pajamas, you had to see that coming; THIS IS CHAPTER FUCKING FOUR PAY ATTENTION)

Cas helped me up and kissed me again, and before I knew it he was helping me into the stupid (omg cozy, shut up) pajamas. They have a FLAP in the back for easy access to my ASS, thank you very much. 

“I was saving these for a special occasion,” he said as he zipped me up, “but I think they’re more than appropriate for tonight.” He led me over to the corner and stood me there, I resisted just enough to get one good SMACK across my bare ass. Yes he left the flap down. Bite me. 

Just as I thought he was going to leave me there for awhile to “think about why I was there”, he fished something out of his pocket. At first it didn’t register because I wasn’t expecting to see…I probably fucking should have…

Cas was holding a SOOTHER. My size, where the hell did he get..??

Blue and white with “MUTE BUTTON” written across the front in big blue letters. NO. NONONONONO. NO. 

“CAS C’MONUULK--!!!” Or whatever the fuck you sound like when someone pops a soother right the hell into your face. Too stunned to spit it out at first I automatically started sucking on it.

Crap. I liked it. 

And even if I didn’t, the look Cas was giving me would’ve kept Wolverine from spitting it out. Fuck.

“My mother called those ‘pacifiers’. I call them “sassifiers” because they work wonders on naughty little boys who yell and swear and throw fits. You’ll keep that in for the rest of the night. If it comes out without permission it’ll be nice and soapy when it goes back in. Are we clear?”

I nodded, yeah I should have been FURIOUS but the thing was so…interesting…that my brain kinda decided to be mad later. Huh.

“Good boy. Stay here ‘til I call you. We’ll have a ‘brat chat’ about your behavior before I put you to bed. How long that ‘chat’ will be depends on how well you behave until then.” He turned me toward the wall and left me there with a solid pat to my exposed rear-end. I could hear him behind me, doing whatever while I stood; I really wanted to look over my shoulder and see what he was up to but I did NOT want a ‘chat’ any longer than it had to be. As bad as the temptation was I actually behaved myself, running lines for the play in my head while I sucked that damned ‘sassifier’ and waited for Cas to call me. 

And now I wish the wait had been longer. I want NO part of the thing Cas is holding. Fuck me that looks like it HURTS.

Cas has some kind of…I don’t even know what that is! It looks like some nut looped two thin leather tubes and wrapped the ends in more leather; like giant leather shoelaces or something. He’s sitting on his bed, crooking his finger at me…FUCK….

“Come here little boy. You wondered what I spanked you with for driving home after drinking that night? This is called a Loopy Johnny. It gets the job done without making much noise; there’s people all around us in their rooms, I’m thinking you’d prefer a quiet ‘chat’?”

I fucking love that he’s acting like he’s doing me a favor--!!!

But the last thing I need is to have somebody banging on Cas’ door, probably nosy-ass GABE, wondering what the hell that slapping sound is. Goddammit. 

I want to just obey but my feet (my nice warm jammie-covered feet, seriously shut UP) honestly don’t want to take me over there. Cas waits a heartbeat before he raises three fingers in front of his chest. 

I don’t move. 

Cas lowers one. Now there’s two fingers and his look is growing darker. I still can’t make myself start walking…Cas is lowering to one finger—

Faster than the Flash I’m at his side, the flap flapping behind me like a freakin' flag. Cas is gazing up at me, only he can seem pleased and displeased at the same time.

“Smart move, little boy. You did *not* want to let me get down to ‘one’.” He pulls me by the hand over his left knee, his right leg over both of mine.

I’m on the verge of tears and he hasn’t even started. 

He’s slowly rubbing the loopy-thing over my bottom; I remember how much it hurt the last time and I want to beg him not to spank me, promise to do a better job with my temper, but all I can do around my sassifier is whine a little; I could probably speak around it but I’m betting that’s a ‘naughty boy’ thing to do. I feel Cas raise his arm—

**OWTCH**

**MOTHEROFGOD OH PLEASE**

**OWCH O PLEASE O NO**

I can’t kick can’t run it hurts it _HURTS O_ \--!!!!!

“You will not throw tantrums at me, young man. My ‘Big Dean’ will speak to me with a civil tongue like an adult or my ‘Little Dean’ will end up over my knee. Every time.”

Two more and my bottom is on FIRE, that thing makes nearly no noise but it feels like an entire hive of bees just stung me all at the same time! Somehow I keep my soother in, tears on my cheeks are sliding around it as they make their way down to my chin, I randomly wonder if the carpet is wet below my miserable face…

And then it’s over. I hear Cas drop the Loopy-thing on the floor. He’s rubbing my back through the pajamas and running his fingers through my hair, it feels so good my bottom stings so much everything is awful.

Cas is gentle when he pushes me up. He settles me on his bed, on my belly of course; I’m so wiped and so weepy I barely even notice. And then he’s rubbing something sooo nice and cool on my burning backside, it feels so good that it makes me cry even harder. Cas finishes with the cooling stuff and puts it…somewhere…then he’s sitting on the bed with my head on his lap. His hands are in my hair again. I love it I love _him_ I'll be good...

“Don’t lie to me, little boy. In any form. I don’t like it and you won’t like the consequences. And it doesn’t matter that you’re a little bigger than me, you better grow a helluva lot more before you step to me the way you did tonight. Are we clear?” 

I nod sadly. I’m broken I’m whole I’m his. 

“Good. One more thing.” He carefully lifts my head and goes back to his closet; I feel cold and wrong without him and it's ridiculous but I feel myself wanting to whine for him to come back—

And then he is back. And he’s holding…a bear.

A little white stuffed angel bear. With big blue eyes and dark, dark wings. It may be the cutest thing I have ever seen. 

My Castiel got him just for me. 

I’m kneeling on the bed, the sting in my bottom temporarily forgotten.

“I saw this and wanted it for my little one. You can hold him whenever I can’t lay down with you. I have to finish my work so I thought you could meet him tonight.” He holds out my Angel-that’s gotta be his name—and I lay down with him; just like with Cas I can’t stop looking at his pretty blue eyes. 

Cas is working on his design project at his desk. I’m snuggled down into his bed, rubbing my cheek against the soft fur of my angel bear. My sassifier feels…like it’s supposed to be there, the rhythm of sucking on it helping me on toward sleep. I should probably be…I dunno, embarrassed or something…but instead all feels right with the world.

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

It’s well after midnight and I still have to make my rounds, make sure the dorm is as it should be. I’ll go in a moment, but right now I can’t stop adoring my sweet boy. 

He’s curled on his side, ‘sassifier’ still working away. His bear up against his cheek, a tear or two still drying. 

We never did up the buttons on the flap; that rosy red bubble-butt still bare to the world. Even if the world is just me. It may be the cutest thing I have ever seen.

My boy is safe, well spanked and well-loved.

All feels right with the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Crowley and a few other SPN folks will be here soon, promise!
> 
> Here's a few good pics of a Loopy Johnny. Trust me they make you wanna behave ;) 
> 
> http://www.aswgt.com/loopy.html


	5. Angel of the Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Little Dean will have more cuddles with me, and more aloe and arnica lotion for his naughty bottom while we talk about a few things, before I help him get dressed and send him off to breakfast and his first class.” He’s running fingers through my hair at the nape, it feels _so_ good…
> 
> “…and Big Dean? What would he get?” The fingers in my hair suddenly grip, nice and tight.
> 
> “Big Dean gets this hot bottom fucked right through the flap in these pajamas.” 
> 
> Oh. I…Oh. 
> 
> Alrighty then.
> 
> I take my sassifier out and slide it under the pillow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More thanks to all my awesome readers and commenters and kudosers (it's a word!), love you so hard! :) 
> 
> I know this chapter's a bit short for my usual updates, nice long chapter coming next week though!

If you ever have the choice of how to wake up: choose sunlight, a soft angel bear in your arms, and a hard angel man wrapped around you. Oh yeah, and a sassifier you somehow kept in the whole night. I really like this thing. Shut up.

Cas feels me stirring and his hold gets even firmer. I realize the blankets are over us and it’s a good thing because he’s very nekkid behind me. He’s, um, really happy to be up against my bare ass; at least part of him is. Mmm.

“Are you my Big Dean or my Little Dean?” That growl instantly makes part of me just as happy as part of him.

“Does it matter?” I ask lazily around my soother, not-so-subtly pressing my still-sore backside into that Happy Part of his, smirking to myself as it gets even happier. 

“It matters. Little Dean will have more cuddles with me, and more aloe and arnica lotion for his naughty bottom while we talk about a few things, before I help him get dressed and send him off to breakfast and his first class.” He’s running fingers through my hair at the nape, it feels _so_ good…

“…and Big Dean? What would he get?” The fingers in my hair suddenly grip, nice and tight.

“Big Dean gets this hot bottom fucked right through the flap in these pajamas.” 

Oh. I…Oh. 

Alrighty then. 

I take my sassifier out and slide it under the pillow. Place my Angel bear on the bedside table. Turn him so he's not watching us.

(Stop laughing what did I tell you before about judging me?!?) 

“I think Big Dean is here right noOOWWOOOH--!!!!!” _Cas just flips me all the way onto my belly. Slides down my body and--his tongue…oh god his TONGUE. We’re not gonna need lube. I’m gripping the sheets and just moaning like in bad porn when Cas starts mouthing that crazy ticklish spot where my ass turns into thigh, making me fucking giggle like a girl while my cock starts, well, oozing (I hate that word but what else you gonna call it); he’s gripping the fucking pajama flap so I can’t get away, bastard--! And then he’s raising my hips and he’s just pounding and pounding and I love it all Cas all around me he’s gripping my waist and the thought that he just might tickle me pushes me over that edge ohhhhh_

I have no bones. Cas made me have no bones. If there was a fire right now he’d have to carry me outta here and he’s so strong that as big as I am I know he could do it. He’s collapsed on top of me, naked and amazing, after he finished with that gravelly low roar that is so hot and adorable it needs a new word. Hotdorable. Adorahot. One ‘a those. Suddenly I feel selfish, like I should be giving him more instead of just lying here…as usual he stops me when I try to turn over.

“Cas let me up, I wanna make you feel good—“

“I feel right as rain little man, thank you; just lay there and let me feel you underneath me.” He’s running his hands over the fleecy/flannel/whatever of my pajamas, I should feel dirty for getting thoroughly shagged in these damn things but with Cas it feels perfectly fucking normal. 

Randomly I find myself fighting the urge to put my sassifier back, like people who want a smoke right after sex. Wtf. 

My weird-ass life, let me show you it. Meanwhile…

“Can we talk now? About what you said we’d talk about if I was Little Dean?” Cas nods against my back and adjusts so he’s next to me, lying half on me and half on the bed. I ignore how the loss of his full weight makes me feel..lonely...just for a second.

“I just want to make sure we’re clear on a few things. I know last night was a new experience for you.” 

“That may be the understatement of the year, Cas.” He laughs low, the one arm around me squeezing gently. His hand wanders down to my ass, still uncovered (!), patting and rubbing so I’m damn near purring. Arching up for more of his touch. 

“It’s actually pretty simple: your behavior, in here OR out there, will tell me whether Big Dean or Little Dean needs my attention. Either one can have these bratty little bubbles popped for misbehavior or disrespect, but Little Dean is treated like my little boy. He doesn’t do what Big Dean does in this bed, at least not for now. Understand?”

I think about that, slowly nodding. I think I like that. I can be Cas’ little boy if I need to and I don’t have to mix it with…grownup stuff…if I don’t want to. 

Yeah, I like that. 

“Good. Another thing: no more keeping ‘us’ some big secret. It’s exhausting and I’m tired of it.” I panic at that, if anybody tried to make us stop…this…oh HELL no…I bet he'd spank me pretty hard for burning down the school buildings...

“But Cas the school—the other kids--!“ He pats my backside more firmly to calm me down. It works. Damn. 

“Trust me, the school doesn’t care as long as no one can say you’re receiving special treatment. Believe me Mr. Winchester, that will *not* be the case. If anything you’re being held to a higher standard of conduct; good luck finding someone who’ll mind that.” I can’t see him but I *know* he’s got that Cas Smirk on…it doesn’t vex me right now though; all I can think is that _he wants everyone to know I’m his._

Fucking YAY. 

I’m fighting the urge to drift back to sleep, but one more thing I need to know:

“…Cas? Um, are you my…are we…“ Cas gives this big fake sigh that's so silly I have to laugh.

“Yes, Mr. Winchester, you may call me your boyfriend if you must; it’s fine.”

“Well what do you _want_ me to call you?”

“I prefer "Vile Overlord"—“ 

“…what??” 

“--but I suppose ‘boyfriend’ will do.” He wraps both arms around me again and snuggles me close; slowly unzipping my pajamas and slipping his warm, strong hands inside. I feel myself relaxing even more, if that’s possible, sinking further down into his solid chest against my back…

“I know one thing you won’t be calling me,” he murmurs, kissing the shell of my ear in that way I love even though it makes me squirmy. “What’s that?” I ask faintly, getting lost in his ear kisses and his hands on my skin...

“CASSHOLE.”

Wha…?

Oh yeah. OH SHIT---! 

And just like that it’s **ON** he’s tickling and tickling and tickling and **TICKLING** his hands are so deep inside my pajamas they’re basically trapped I’M TRAPPED he’s doing this heinous wrong awful thing where he’s made fists and he’s rubbing his Vile Overlord knuckles over my ribs in little circles (FUCK) and all I can do is flail around like those giant blow-up guys outside a car dealership, my face is buried in the pillow insane laughter sputtering out of me like…like a person being tickled half to death first thing in the morning. There’s nothing I can fucking _do_ (there never is with him dammit) so I try the Manly Art of Begging:

‘CAS PLEA-IMSORRYIMSORRYIDIDN’TPEEYETPLEAA--!!! He stops (!) and I heave in air while he drums his fingers on my ribs like he’s thinking it over, damn him…

“If ‘Little’ Dean is back I can find him a diaper so my bed stays nice and dry.”

_He did not just say that nonono why is my cock so fucking intrigued o god_

“’Sorry’ is good, thank you, but I want to hear something else; how about ‘Be merciful my Evil One.’ “ I can feel his Smug Cas grin against my hair. 

No fucking way, I’ll die first. And yeah you know where this is going but I have to try for fuck's sake...

“Forget it Cas that’s stupi **AHHHSTOPITSTOPITSTOPITNYAHHH--!!!** ”

The mean bastard moved his hands down to the hollows on either side of my package right where my thighs start and he’s just DRILLING in those spaces with his pointer fingers, it’s FUCKING TORTURE and I have to push my face even further into the pillow so they can’t hear my dumbass screech-laughing all over this fucking dorm. My whole body wants to hunch over but I can’t; my legs are trying so hard to run but they’re trapped, I’m beating at Cas’s hands with the one fist I have free and nothing should tickle like this, nothing. Just as I’m about to burst into a million ruined pieces he stops again, thank fucking GOD. I wipe my sweaty forehead on the pillowcase while he calmly growls my situation right against my ear:

“That’s a spot called ‘pockets’, for obvious reasons. It’s always a bad spot, especially when you’re fresh from a good orgasm; makes you more sensitive. Sometime, soon probably, I’ll catch you in those nice silky boxer briefs that look so good on you and just work your ‘pockets’ through them while you cum for me over and over until you don’t even know your own name. For now though, I suggest you tell me what I want to hear; any minute now other students may start knocking, looking for me; I have no problem tickling you so badly they hear you cackling like a precious baby through my door and everyone will know about my ticklish little boy Dean Winchester.” 

O you sonuva…!

I’m shivering just thinking about it, eyes on me knowing who’s boy I am, who I belong to, _how fucking ticklish I am NO_  
then Cas reaches down with both hands and rakes his nails up my thighs, it tickles fucking HORRIFICALLY and 

**“BE MERCIFUL MY EVIL ONE!!!** ” comes lunging out of my weak pathetic face. Goddammit. 

I feel Cas shaking a little, he’s laughing silently. Not ‘at’ me, exactly, but still. “I hate you,” I mutter as he releases me and I can turn to face him. He kisses me, one of the soul-stroking lovely ones that make my toes go all twisty. Pulls me into him and holds me, tight; his chin on top of my head and my cheek against his chest. He has just enough curly black fur that it feels amazing. Maybe I won’t have him poisoned. Not today anyway…

“Cas,” I say as I’m drifting back to sleep for awhile, “what do you want to call me? Your boyfriend...?”

He cards his fingers into my hair on top, raises my head to look him in the eye.

“I call you what you are. MINE.” Kisses my forehead. 

All I remember before darkness is the beating of his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For my sweet youngling readers who don't know "Angel of the Morning" or who the hell Juice Newton is: 
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HTzGMEfbnAw
> 
> Don't worry about the lyrics, I just love the title; reminds me of Cas and Gabe every time it come up on my iPod mix ;) More SPN folks coming up next chapter!


	6. Never Trust A Big Moose and a Smile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "When I see you tonight I expect your roommate and those other two hooligans to ‘know’. I will not be altering my behavior. If they’re surprised then I’ll know just how much time with this hairbrush Little Dean will need later on. Are we clear?” The light but menacing tap of the brush against his hip causes his breath to hitch, his heart pounding just a bit; He knows that’s not a threat, nor a challenge. It’s a promise. I’ve already shown him I keep my promises. 
> 
> “I…yessir.” Poor little boy, all hot and flustered and we both have places to be. I take pity on him and turn him loose with one last kiss and a swat to his denim-clad backside. 
> 
> I can’t help shaking my head a bit. I know that he _wants_ to be my good boy. Mostly. I still suspect tonight will end in this hairbrush popping some little red bubbles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love you guys, thank you for all the comments and kudos so far! Feel free to email at bellarisatk@yahoo.com with questions or prompts or just to say hi :-D

“You’re telling them today. This morning.” 

Standing in my bathroom doorway, I watch as he brushes that unruly Winchester hair; I have to force myself not to take the brush from him and do it myself. I could brush it for hours, until it’s as soft as burnished golden silk. Good lord my boy is beautiful. 

“I will Cas, I promise. I’m tired of keeping things on the D/L too.”

“…you’ve said that before, young man. And then you change your mind and expect me to behave like there’s nothing more than friendship between us. That is most definitely not the case and I’m done pretending.” He can see my expression in the mirror, and I’m satisfied by the widened eyes and swallow; he knows I mean business. 

“I know, I just…they’re gonna be all over me about it with questions and crap and that’ll be a pain, y’know?” He runs a frustrated hand through the hair he just spent umpteen minutes brushing. Closing the space between us I finally take the brush myself and turn him to face me as I fix what he just mussed. 

“I’m sure you’ll handle it just fine. I doubt you kept your other relationships a secret and you survived.” Slowly I back him up to the sink behind him, his legs in between mine. This is how I love my little one: up against me and not going anywhere until I say. I dust the front of his dark blue Henley (that somehow turns his eyes from leaf to emerald), flicking a sensitive nipple until it’s a ticklish pebble making him squirm against me. Take his chin in my hand for a kiss. Lean my forehead against his, breathing with him for a moment, before backing up just enough to look him straight in those naughty green eyes.

“When I see you tonight I expect your roommate and those other two hooligans to ‘know’. I will not be altering my behavior. If they’re surprised then I’ll know just how much time with this hairbrush Little Dean will need later on. Are we clear?” The light but menacing tap of the brush against his hip causes his breath to hitch, his heart pounding just a bit; He knows that’s not a threat, nor a challenge. It’s a promise. I’ve already shown him I keep my promises. 

“I…yessir.” Poor little boy, all hot and flustered and we both have places to be. I take pity on him and turn him loose with one last kiss and a swat to his denim-clad backside. 

I can’t help shaking my head a bit. I know that he _wants_ to be my good boy. Mostly. I still suspect tonight will end in this hairbrush popping some little red bubbles.

&+&+&+&+&+&+&+&+&+&+&

I can’t figure out what the fuck is wrong with me. I really can’t. I *never* keep it secret when I have a boyfriend or a girlfriend. It’s not like I rent a plane to fly a banner over the town or something, it’s just that people know me so they know what I’m doing. Who I’m with. Since kindergarten I was always what you’d call a “popular kid” if you were a douche in an 80’s movie, one with that hot redhead girl or maybe that guy who plays Ironman now. So yeah, my friends and the rest of the world always knew when I had somebody and I never minded that. I do this time. I think…I think that Cas is so fucking awesome that I want him all for me, or something. It’s not jealousy, not exactly…I dunno what it is. But I don’t even like it when I wanna see him and I can’t because some other kid needs to _talk_ , about their precious feelings or how their roomie’s breeding hamsters under his bunk or whatever. My Cas. MINE. I almost want to start sending them to Sam, he’s in school to open his own daycare center so I know he can handle these whiners and their problems…and speaking of Sammy there he is. Good, I’m not too late to walk to class with him. I catch up to him and we nod dude-style as we head out into the admittedly nice Fall morning.

We talk about various random crap as we head across the quad. Becky’s up ahead of us with a few other kids on their way to our class, and I notice her head looks, well, weird:

“Did Becky do something to her hair…?” Sam smothers a laugh. 

“You could say that. She had her cat’s face shaved into the back of her head.”

“WHAT, why??” I squint and realize that yes, that’s a heinously done cat-face on the back of the chick’s skull; I knew she was weird but geezus.

“ She says Castiel told her it was a good idea. Had it done about a week ago.” 

Ok that pisses me off. My Cas would never…what!

“Bullshit, Cas would NEVER tell somebody to do something that fucking crazy!” Sam looks down at me from his Gigantor-ness and grins like I just passed some test. Oh here we go…

“Dude slow your roll, I’m just telling you what she said. But speaking of Cas—“ he stops walking. Looks at me like…well kinda like Cas does when I’m in trouble a little. This is weird. So is the little tingle in my belly that I completely fucking ignore for later review. WTF. 

“What about Cas?” Why does my stubborn ass turn ornery when I could just TELL my best friend the truth?? I need therapy. Maybe I’ll hire Sammy here. 

“When were you gonna tell me you two were a ‘Thing’?” Crap. And now we have the “Dr. Phil and Sherlock’s baby grew up and got busy with Oprah and Perez Hilton’s kid” Sam-face. I’m not getting outta this and that’s probably a good thing. Sigh. 

“Awright…wait before I even say anything how did YOU know??” I was kinda priding myself on keeping things under cover, I’m a little annoyed and it must show because Sam’s got that “I’m smarter than you” grin. Bitch.

“Know what I love about you, Dean?”

“Same thing as everybody else: I’m awesome.” 

“Yeah, NO, Jerk. I love how you honestly think everyone’s stupid except you. Ok, maybe our roomies are a little clueless, they’re on their own planets anyway, but this is ME you’re talking to. How long did you really think I wasn’t gonna notice how you never look at Cas? How much time you’re spending in his room? You don’t study that much and you know it. Even I don’t. Plus…there’s no way you’d be totally ignoring all the hot girls and guys around here if you were seeing someone who wasn’t on this campus; you don’t even _look_. Don’t get me wrong, you’re probably faithful when you wanna be, but you’re not dead. All I did was put two and two together.” 

I wanna punch him but he’s right. Smug Moose is always right, it's kinda sickening.

“Fine, whatever," I grumble. Yes I'm pouting a little, thought I was smooth. "Do the Trouble Twins know…?” They’d have said something by now if they knew but I have to ask. 

“Nope, in fact when I first suspected Gabe convinced me there’s no way. Because you’d have told us, especially Garth. Since, you know, you’d never keep anything from Garth.” Sam’s looking at me with that Naughty Dean look that’s _really_ making it hard to ignore that weird tingle. He and Cas have a lot in common, I never noticed before…I literally shake THAT notion right outta my head. That’s ALL I need. 

“I’ll make it up to Garth. And you. Even the little pain-in-the-ass comedian. I just didn’t want to say anything for awhile because…I dunno, reasons.” I’d explain it to Sammy if I could explain it to myself, I really would.  
Sam’s looking at me, his eyes kinda dark; making that lower-belly tingle just…tingle (seriously shut up). He nods and we start walking again. “Fair enough dude, your life IS your business. Just don’t feel like you need to keep you and Cas a secret; people will either be oblivious or happy for you, especially 'us'; y’know?”

Again he’s right. My friends will be a little weirded out because Cas is, well, a ‘Grownup’ in their heads, mine too. but they’ll think it’s cool. ‘Cause it is. *He* is. It'll be all good.

“I know, I know. I promise I’ll tell those two at lunch.” Our class schedules this semester make it so we can all four meet at the same time every day for lunch, and usually dinner too. Say what you want about the commons but the burgers are fucking delicious.

“Good idea. Gabe can buy my lunch with the ten-spot he owes me.” I start to ask why Gabe owes Sam money when we realize we’re gonna be late and book it into the psych building.

Lunch is gonna be interesting. 

&+&+&+&+&+&+&+&+&+&+&

I can’t. 

The longer we’re sitting here over burgers and fries, just being our usual moron selves, the harder it is to bring up Cas and me. Fucking Gabe just told a joke so stupid I wanted to KILL him:

_“Yo Chesty, Whadaya call a fake noodle? AN IM-PASTA!”_

_"Gabe I will beat your ass with your own shoe."_

and Garth actually snorked friggin’ apple juice (!) out of his nose. We cannot. Stop. Laughing. I love these idiots but…I feel like a fool bringing up my Love Life even though I know I have to. Sam keeps giving me these glances, I know what he’s thinking: “Dude just TELL them before we’re done, you promised.” I’m purposely avoiding his eyes and pretending I don’t have Certain Doom waiting if we see Cas before I say something. Before I know it we scatter, Gabe and Sam have classes and Garth and I are headed back to our room. Sam’s giving me a scowl that’s somehow scary and mild at the same time. Sorry Sammy, I know I choked. Later…later. 

Later.

Sam and Gabe are here in Garth’s and my room, everybody’s got a book or a laptop out, or both (all of us have one test or another coming up). I’m letting Garth play his ‘90’s music while we study, I want to be extra-nice to him for awhile; once I thought about it I realized I’m not here a LOT, yeah we’re just roomies but he’s my little bud and I know he’s been lonely without me here and there. He thinks I’ve been crashing at a friend’s house off-campus when I don’t sleep in my own bed. My fibs, they are adding up. Anyway we’re all bopping our heads to Bell Biv Devoe from back in the day when there’s a knock.

A knock I immediately fucking recognize. Oh. Oh no.

SHIT WHAT TIME IS IT--!!!

I freak the FUCK out and head…to my closet. Let’s see, tell your friends what you need to, or hide in a dorm closet like a fucking lunatic. Guess which one I choose. Congrats, you finally get what kind of dumbass I am! Have a cookie. Meanwhile, I hiss-whisper to the room like it’s a heist in a 30’s movie: 

“Dudes do NOT tell Cas I’m here. I’ll tell you why later!” They all nod, two of them looking at me like I’m crazy but they trust me while Dr. Sam gives me the Bitch-Face as he heads to the door. I slink into my closet like a common criminal, amazed Cas can’t tell I’m in here just from how hard my freakin’ heart is beating. 

Sam’s opening the door. Go on Sammy, be my friend and tell him I went…some NOPE NOT HERE place. Narnia. Rivendell. I don’t care. 

“Oh Hello Sam, is Dean here? Do you know where he is?” Sam glances back at the closet. He’s smiling that crooked smile of his that tells me I am now screwed. Looks back as Cas.

“Sure Cas…”

_Bitch don’t do it_

“Dean’s in his closet looking for something, c’mon in!”

_Oh my god._

I stand there like a total fool trying to magically become shirts. Through the slats of the closet door I see Cas glide past Sam right the hell towards me. I should probably just open the damn door and come out of the closet 

(yeah I know, I already did, HAHAHA, shut the fuck up) 

but I’m just…frozen. The closer Cas gets the more Little Dean wants to bore through the back of this thing and run the fuck away…

“Hello Dean.” SHIT he opened the door and he’s laser-gazing at me with icy eyes and the Dred-Brow, and that head tilt; the one that I’ve learned means I’m sleeping on my belly tonight. He doesn’t need to ask why I’m in here, he knows. Dammit. I’m an idiot.

“Hey Cas, I was just—“

“You were just looking for something, I know. Hope you find it. Meanwhile I wanted to tell you that I have work all afternoon, but I’ll join you all for dinner if you like; around six.” He’s still giving me that lethal look, daring me to say…I don’t even know, something I’m not supposed to. Which is probably anything but ‘Sure Cas, no problem.”

”Sure Cas no prob—“

“Great, I’ll see you then.” And he pulls me out of the closet and up against him by the front of my shirt for a kiss that would freak me out with my crew right there if it wasn’t so freaking delicious.

Damn he fights dirty. Also at some point today he had chocolate.

I open my eyes just in time to see Garth and Gabe slack-jawed and staring, and Sam just *grinning*. Bitch. I will find you in the night and shove a wombat up your pajama pants. 

Without taking his eyes off of Cas and me, or closing his mouth for that matter, Gabe hands Sam what I think is a ten-dollar bill. Then he catches the red Jolly Rancher that falls out of Garth’s open mouth and puts it back in. Garth immediately begins to furiously suck on the thing, his eyes never leaving us either. This would be funny as hell if my ass wasn’t going to be the color of strawberry Jello later on…

Cas nods to the guys and takes off; he _winks_ at me over his shoulder as he goes, and even though I mostly want to go hide in Australia my knees nearly buckle from what that wink does to me. He’s totally going to make me cry tonight. I still want him. Right now. Unf.

Meanwhile the room is deadly quiet until Garth jumps up and hugs the crap outta me. Gabe, of course, breaks the silence: 

“Lucy, you got some ‘SPLAININ’ to do!” They’re all three waiting for me to start talking. Fine, let's do this.

"Um, see, we went to pick fucking apples…”

 

**TO BE CONTINUED**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I promised a nice long chapter, Part 2 coming VERY soon! Then a holiday chapter I think you'll really like :)
> 
> Ah, and Bell Biv Devoe for my younglings: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sb2np1HGqxg


	7. Never Trust a Big Moose and a Smile: Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Um, Cas…am…am I in a _lotta_ trouble?” The Dred-Brow raises just a little, like I asked a silly question. I guess I did since I pretty much know the answer. Cas just looks at me for another second before he smirks a little; slips a hand behind my neck and touches his forehead to mine. He loves me. No matter how much trouble I’m in...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part two, as promised; hope you like it!

This is what I was fucking afraid of. SO MANY GODDAMNED QUESTIONS and two goofballs yapping at me at the same damn time. There should be a Facebook relationship status that just says “OMFG”; other dudes would totally get it. I hold a hand up to shut them both the hell up and point to the one who can speak first; the main thing right now is settling down the very freaked-out Mr. Fitzgerald the fourth:

_No Garth, I’m not moving into Cas’ room {again with the hugs}._

_Yes that’s where I’ve been at night. NO we haven’t gotten secretly married you nutjob._

_YES DUDE I’M SORRY I ‘FIBBED’ and yes I’ll make it up to you._ I hand him a bunch of these new ‘Tropical’ Jolly Ranchers from my emergency stash. Yes I have emergency Jolly Ranchers, if you think that’s batshit live with Garth for a week and it’ll make total fucking sense.

(And now I need a new hiding place for them. Fuck.)

Garth’s obviously torn between being happy for Cas and me, and mad that he wasn’t the first to *know* about Cas and me. He’ll get over himself when he thinks about it, Sammy really was the best person to know first; meantime, candy and hugs and shit.

Then there’s fucking Gabe:

_No you asshole, we don’t know how many kids we want. I’d like to get to sophomore year first, thanks._

_Yes he’s helping me with theater classes, NO he’s not doing my homework for me and please go fuck yourself._

_NO HE DOESN’T KEEP HIS TRENCHCOAT ON WHEN WE--FUCK YOU GABE.”_ I really am about to beat down some punk comedian ass when Sam wisely suggests that Itchy and Scratchy go to his and Gabe’s room for awhile, we’ll meet them in the dining  
hall later. Sam smacks Gabe upside the head with his best Sammy Bitch-Face as Gabe goes by him; Gabe looks like he wants to talk shit, but then just laughs and follows Garth out the door. Good, I love those two (yes even the little fuckhead) but I need a break.

Sam’s sitting half on my desk with one foot on the floor, just….looking at me. Like I’m a new specimen of bug he just found and he’s not sure how to label me. Now what.

“Wassup dude, you need to ask me a bunch of crap too?” His expression doesn’t change. What the hell. His eyes narrow just a little before he says anything:

“There’s something you’re not telling us. Not telling _me_. About you and Castiel.” It’s not a question. How the fuck does he always know every damn thing, does he have psychic powers or some shit? Dude should give up on the Early Ed path and go be a lawyer; nobody would stand a chance.

I start to say…oh hell I dunno, something, anything but the truth. I even think about the truth for all of .02 seconds before THAT notion leaves my idiot brain:

_You’re right Sammy, the truth is that Cas spanks my ass and dresses me like I’m seven if I don’t act like he tells me to; sometimes when I DO act like he tells me to, just for shits and giggles to remind me he’s in charge. I’d kick HIS ass, or try anyway…but I kinda like it. And now I’m passing stupid Botany._

Yeah…no. At least…not now. I just can’t. Sorry Sammy, if I ever do have the balls to tell somebody it’ll be you first I promise—

Sam, bless his giant mop head, lets me off the hook. Sort of. “it’s ok dude. You don’t have to tell me now. You will, whatever it is. When you’re ready.” I start to argue that he’s imagining things but you know what? Fuck it. Dr. Phil-Lock always figures shit out no matter what, why fight it…he gives me a one-armed Gigantor Man-Hug as we head out to dinner.

Dinner. O holy shit this’ll be fun…ugh.

&+&+&+&+&+&+&+&+&+&+&+&+&+&+&+&

We collect The G-men on our way to the dining hall. I keep Dean and Gabe on opposite sides of me to prevent a murder and purposely ask Garth a bunch of questions about his music collection; anything to keep conversation going and distract my best friend from choking my roomie to death. I know Dean and Gabe are tight under all the noise but still…this is not the day for Gabe to test Dean’s patience. I can tell he’s freaked out about us knowing, still not sure why, but it does mean the whole dorm’ll know pretty soon; between Gabe’s mouth and Garth’s Angels (what we call all the freshman girls who seem to have adopted Garth and will do anything for him) it’s a matter of hours before the whole school knows Dean and Castiel are a thing. They’ll even have some cute name for them before long, Castean or something…at any rate Dean’s majorly stressed and the last thing he needs is Gabe making him crazier. I plan to keep an eye on Gabe through dinner, do my best to keep him from bugging the crap out of…hell all of us. Don’t know why Gabe listens to me but he does. It comes in handy when he’s hyper. Tonight he’s hyper as hell.

Time’s like this I feel like…like there’s a right way to handle Gabe but I can’t figure out what that is. Or why it’s even my responsibility…it just _is_.

Cas meets us outside and runs a hand through Dean’s hair as we’re all going in. Dean blushes a little, but it’s obvious they’re, like, ‘supposed’ to be whatever they are. Dean may have blushed but he also instantly relaxed, his shoulders visibly chilled from the tense way they were. And he _smiled._ Understand: I’ve seen him drunk, happy, A+ on a test with a girl on one knee and a guy on the other…I’ve never seen him smile like that. This is good. Really good.

So anyone can understand why Gabe might spend the night tied to his bunk. And not in some fun way.

Right in the middle of a great conversation about that (heinous friggin’ clown) play Dean’s in that Cas is designing the set for, Dean’s about to tell us more about it when he stops to take a sip of his Coke. Gabe has been pretty quiet for most of dinner, which I’m sure surprises everyone. Especially me since the little dingus even talks in his sleep. He’s watching Dean take a drink when

 **“SO CHESTY, WHICH ONE A’ YOU’S THE BIG SPOON??”** comes out of his jackassy face. Oh god.

Dean immediately sputters on his drink and Cas has to rub his back for a second while poor Dean’s eyes are watering, he’s BRIGHT red with ice and Coke dribbled all down the front of his shirt and MURDER in his bleary eyes. Garth’s at the head of the table mid-chew and wide-eyed; turns to give Gabe the same filthy stink-eye as me. “Not cool dude, look whatcha made him do!” Garth’s about to get up and I *know* he’s gonna try to hug Dean. I catch his eye and shake my head a little; this is not the time. Garth stays where he is, continuing to stare daggers at the pain-in-the-ass next to me. Normally one of us making the other spit like that would be friggin’ hilarious. Not today.

Gabe’s just sitting there this whole time with his typical shit-eating grin on his face. I’m about to re-smack him upside the head and tear him a new one when I notice…now he’s not grinning like he was. In fact he looks like he’s seen a ghost—

Cas is looking at Gabe from across the table while he keeps rubbing Dean’s back.

I mean _looking_ at him. With this small, quiet smile. His head is kinda tilted and his left eyebrow is raised a little, like he’s…expecting something. I don’t know how he’s doing it but he’s actually affecting the usually immune-to -all-things-remorseful Gabriel. Hell, *I* feel like apologizing and I didn’t do anything…! Gabe’s looking back at Cas, trying to play it off like he’s not bothered, but I know him and I can see him getting nervous. Flustered even. _Gabe_. Somebody call the news.

And Cas is not blinking. I swear to god I feel Gabe _shiver_. Whatever is going on here, I like it.

Gabe breaks first; looks down for a minute before

“Sorry Dean.”

comes mumbling out as he plays with a napkin. Everyone else at the table, except Castiel, is _stunned._

Sorry *Dean*.

Not Chesty. Not Failchester.

I think the world may be ending. In a way that I totally friggin’ LOVE.

Whatever Cas just did is my new way of life. I need to find out what makes Cas…Cas.

I hope he’ll take on an apprentice. I almost feel sorry for Gabe.

&+&+&+&+&+&+&+&+&+&+&+&+&+&+&+&

I was really, REALLY nice and just accepted Gabe’s apology. I wanted to stomp him into yogurt. I knew, though, that Cas would probably disapprove if I broke a kid. Probably. In Gabe’s case I’m honestly not sure. But anyway, the obnoxious little dick actually apologized. Huh. I know Cas is good, but damn. No wonder we have the least amount of crazy crap of any dorm on campus; the R.A. is a Jedi. Gabe recovers from having the Force used on him and we call it a night, heading out into seriously windy cold weather. I tell those guys I’ll catch up later, Sam gives me another “we WILL talk” face and they’re off.

As soon as there’s nobody around us Cas shoves me, nicely (I swear to god only Cas can shove nicely), against the wall. He’s so close I can’t help but meet his gaze, even though I’m a little afraid to; I know I fucked up, not telling those guys when I was supposed to and then hiding from him like a moron. He doesn’t look angry though, just…determined. That might be worse. He’s got me by the chin, running a finger over my bottom lip in this way that makes my belly clench and other places _throb_. “I’ve got some more revisions to do on the show set tonight, I’ll be at the theater until nine. You and I have an appointment at nine thirty.” I’m nodding, at least I hope I am since I’m so caught in his burning-blue headlights I can barely breathe. I manage to find my voice and not fucking squeak, though it’s awful damn close:

“Um, Cas…am…am I in a _lotta_ trouble?” The Dred-Brow raises just a little, like I asked a silly question. I guess I did since I pretty much know the answer. Cas just looks at me for another second before he smirks a little; slips a hand behind my neck and touches his forehead to mine. He loves me. No matter how much trouble I’m in...

“Nine thirty. You really, really don’t want to be late.” And he’s gone, his trench coat billowing out behind him as he takes off for the theater. I’m cold now, and not just because of all this wind kicking up. He takes all the warm with him…I really am pathetic. And I should be heading in the other direction so I can get back to Bunker Hall before the rain that’s threatening actually starts. Instead of the Bunker I find myself at the library. I dunno…I just don’t wanna be around people right now. Not my boys anyway. I’m not mad at anybody, seriously; we may squabble but I know they’ve all three got my back. I just…it’s been a _day_. I need time by myself. If I can have that *and* get some studying done it’s all good. I head in and grab a coffee from the machine, find a copy of _“Emma Who Saved My Life”_ , this awesome book we’re reading in English Lit, and hunker down in a corner to read.

The good news is I finished the book and it was amazing. The FUCKING TERRIBLE NEWS IS THAT IT’S 9:28 PM. I dunno what the hell happened I was keeping up with the time, it’s so warm in here I think I dozed off—FUCK ME DOOM---!!!

I scramble out the damn door and head for the Bunker as fast as my stupid late-ass legs will carry me. It’s raining freakin’ HARD; even with campus lights on I can barely see and I’m not looking where I’m going anyway. Which is why I run into this kid on his bike (who the FUCK rides a bike at night in the rain?!?), and by the time we untangle and I make sure he’s not hurt I’m beyond dead; Cas is gonna kill me. And the worst part is that I deserve whatever he does, I didn’t do the only thing he told me to and then I tried to hide and...and fuck I’ve been an ass all day. No…I’ve been a _brat_ , just like Cas says I am. It’s dark and it’s cold I’m wet and I suck and I just want to go somewhere and hide.

No, not just somewhere. I wanna hide in Cas’ pocket. I want my Castiel even though he’s gonna blister my ass. Because he’ll make it better after.

Soaking wet and miserable, feeling like a completely useless tool, I’m knocking on his door.

&+&+&+&+&+&+&+&+&+&+&+&+&+&+&+&

9:41pm. It’s dark and that rain is coming down in absolute buckets. I saw Sam and the other two in the lounge, he’s not with them. There’s no way my boy would be this defiant, no matter what horrors he may be conjuring up in his mind. He’s got four more minutes before I grab my coat and go looking for hi—and there he is. I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until I let it out with that knock.

I throw on my Stern Game Face; he’s here for discipline first and foremost and we’ll be addressing his behavior before anything else. Open the door and—Oh.

Oh.

There’s a sad, defeated, drenched and very muddy third grader dripping before me. His head is bowed, he can’t even look me in the eye. My heart--good heavens how I love this ridiculous boy. I can’t even ask, in fact for now I don’t even want to know.

He’s here and he’s safe and he’s mine to love, and that’s what needed right now. Wordlessly I pull him in by his jacket, help him out of that wet canvas and wet everything else; throw my robe over him as I lead him into the bathroom and turn the shower on. Hot as it goes for a moment to make a bit of steam before taking it down to where it can warm him up properly.

“Sorry Cas, I—“

One finger goes to his nearly-chattering lips. “Not now. We have time. Just let me take care of you.” He nods as I direct him into the shower, stripping myself before I climb in behind him. I grab the soap and start to rub him down, I don’t think he realized how chilled and how tense he really was; like a frozen rubber band just waiting to snap. He’s unthawing under the lusciously warm spray, I’m soaping everything from his hair to his glorious bottom; the feel of the soap bubbles slipping and sliding over those joyous Winchester Bubbles…round and slick and…oh lord I better ask…

Before I can he’s asking himself as he arches back against me:

“Can…can I be Big Dean until we’re all done the shower? Please?” I can’t even answer. That hot little whisper of his, ye gods…I hear myself rumble low in my throat as I’m crowding him up against the shower wall. Offer him my thumb to suckle and slicken before it finds his greedy entrance; he’s keening as I’m preparing him for the raging hardness that I can barely hold back. With little warning I replace my thumb with my bursting cock, pumping like it’s my last day on Earth as I hear my boy yelling with the pleasure of it. The steam and the heat and the wonder of his skin send me so far over the edge I’m not sure which of us is holding the other upright, I’m gripping his waist and his shoulder and we’re just shuddering and breathing together as one.

Mr. Shakespeare’s Beast with Two Backs. And the clean fresh scent of Irish Spring.

Wrapped in one of my huge bath towels (I splurge with towels and blankets; go big and soft or go home) while I’m using a smaller version on his hair, I can feel his uncertainty. He knows he’s good and safe with me. He also knows we have yet to…discuss…the day’s events.

“Cas?”

“Hm?” I notice he’s still not looking directly at me. And that was _not_ Big Dean’s voice. Game on.

“Are you still gonna, um…” Good lord he’s actually shuffling his feet. I truly wonder if there’s a ‘Little Boy 101’ class at this school of which I’m unaware. Regardless, it’s adorable. It won’t save his naughty bottom; he misbehaved and hid from me  
(!) and he’s going to be spanked for all of it.

But it *is* adorable. And he’s had…a very long day to say the least.

I finish with his hair and push him towards my closet. “Look inside to the left and you’ll find what you’re sleeping in tonight. Bring it here so I can dress you. Do *not* try to hide in there, I’ll know where you are.” I meet his cranky, indignant pout with a firm gaze before he ambles his way over and looks into the garment bag on the left. The next, wondrously aghast look of “really??” is met with the same Firm Gaze. I know what you need, little boy, and so do you. I doubt it’ll be long before you fully admit it to yourself; in the meantime, I’m going to have my fun.

And so will you.

&+&+&+&+&+&+&+&+&+&+&+&+&+&+&+&

Monkeys. Dressed like ninjas.

Cas got me red footy pajamas with FUCKING NINJA MONKEYS all over the damn things..! I want to be freakin’ horrified, these are totally ridiculous…damn they look warm. And I’m in enough trouble…

_NINJA MONKEYS OMFG THESE ARE SO AWESOME_

…might as well just put ‘em on. Y’know, because Cas wants me to.

Shut up.

“ **Now** , Little Winchester.” That’s the “don’t make me count” voice, I’ve learned to listen to it. The consequences of ignoring it are kinda awful. Still wrapped in Cas’ big huge towel I grab the ‘jamas and get back over to him; he takes them from me and s-l-o-w-l-y unzips the front, looking into my eyes the whole time. Dunno why, but something about that, all nice and slow, pushes me further down into my little boy place. I’m startin’ to feel, well, scared. I don’t think he’s really really mad but I wasn’t a very good boy and maybe he’ll forget ‘bout the hairbwush but De doesn’t think so…

“Cas is big mad at De?” Feel like I’m gonna cry, didn’t even get a spankin’ yet…

Cas pulls me to him by my towel and gives fo‘head kisses, the bestest kind.

“Not “big mad” at Dean, just not happy with what Dean did today. But we’re going to take care of all that naughtiness, no worries.” Cas takes my towel away and helps me into the ‘jamas. Zips ‘em up to my chin, then says I hafta go stan’ in the corner for a little while and think ‘bout what I did wrong today. I don’t wanna. Just wanna be with Cas. I don’t say that though, I’m so sleepy and I don’t want more corner and then a spankin’ even bigger than the one I’m aweady gettin’. Maybe if I show Cas I can be a good boy…naw, he’s gonna spank me. Too late, shoulda been a good boy before…

“Come here little boy.” Was so busy thinkin’ that corner time’s already over--! Cas is sitting on the end of his bed just wanna crawl under his covers with him right now. His blue tee-shirt and ‘jama pants (just darker blue, no ninja monkeys on his ‘jamas) look soft and nice and I DO NOT WANNA GO OVER THERE CAS HAS THE HAIRBWUSH. It’s in his hand I don’t want it I don’t I DON’T

Cas holds up fingers. Just two--! Don’t want him to get to just one I go to Cas fast…”good boy”, he says, “but I shouldn’t have to count at all.” He pulls me down over his lap, not gonna cry not gonna cry RATS here I go cryin’. Cas pulls down the flap over my bottom and rubs me, makes me not so scared…then

**WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!**

The terrible awful bwush smacked De five hard times! It _HURT_ , please Cas I’ll be good now OW OWIE…!

Cas doesn’t spank anymore. He puts the bwush in my hands and tells me “because you were such a good boy for those, the rest will be with just my hand. You will NOT let go of the brush or I’ll have to use it again. Are we clear?” I shake my head “Yessir” and hold it TIGHT.

Cas is still spankin’ but it’s not awful awful, just stings a lot and I don’t like it but…I feel like when he’s all done I’ll be his Good Boy again. That makes me almost like it. ALMOST.

You shuddup.

“Next time I ask Dean to get something done, is he going to get it done?”

“YESSIR YESSIR OWIEEEEE…” Not awful awful but stings O OWTCH

“And do you EVER hide from me, young man?” More spanks more and more I can't drop the stoopid bwush can't reach back and rub my bottom OWTCHY this sucks!!!

“NO, no sir I’m sorry so sorry please all done, owwwiiee…” I'm snuffling 'cause my nose is running but YAY Cas stops, he’s just rubbing now it feels sooo gooood. I will never ever be a naughty boy again, honest I mean it. Stop laughin'!

Cas closes my bottom-flap and says to get under the covers now. I crawl off his lap and climb under his big blankets, it feels so nice but I need—

My Sass’fier and my Angel Bear. Cas brings them to me. Puts my Sass in for me while I rub my all-wet face on my soft Angel fur. He holds me, shushing me and rubbing my back 'til I don't have anymore tears. I think we’re just gonna go ‘sleep but Cas doesn’t lay down with De, instead he’s sitting up in the bed and puts my head on his lap. He has a book, reads me that it’s called “PIERRE” and it’s about a naughty little boy who didn’t listen and meets a lion…I love it I love Cas my bottom hurts but I don’t care.

It’s warm and Cas has fingers in my hair. That's everything I need.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PIERRE, one of my fave children's books ever: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ToVHzUDYJgU
> 
> Dean's NINJA MONKEY 'jamas! http://pajamacity.com/products/ninja-monkey-footed-pajamas-with-drop-seat?variant=4687396740


	8. Castiel is Comin' To Town (Guess Which List Dean's on)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Now behave and tell me you love me before I show up on your doorstep as Krampus.” 
> 
> Ok, that part made me grin like that idiot in the rhyme who jacks up a perfectly good Christmas pie with his thumb. “What a Good boy am I!” my ass…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Holidays! Life and a sick hubby got in the way of getting this out for y'all by Christmas, I figure it's still close enough to enjoy :) This takes place at the end of the first semester, a few things happened earlier that are alluded to; I promise we'll see all that in full detail in the next few chapters ;)

“Your face’ll freeze like that.”

Sam’s watching me put (ok slam) my bags into the back of my car. I must look as cranky as I am.

Good. Maybe a certain Someone will notice. Not that I care or anything…I throw another bag into the trunk and I see Sam fold his arms in that way that would mean trouble if I were Gabe. Good thing I’m not Gabe, huh?

(Yeah I know, I feel it too: if I keep pushing him one day Sam’s not gonna care that I’m not Gabe. Today is not that day so shut up)

“Dude, settle. You know he would have been with you last night if he could have.” Sam’s leaning up against the passenger side door, arms and now long-ass legs crossed at the ankles. I know he’s right, I *know* I’m being an unreasonable assbadger, I just don’t care. Last night was our last chance to be together before we go home for Christmas Break, we had all these plans. Serious plans. SEX PLANS DAMMIT. And fucking CAS had to fucking CANCEL at the last minute. And I mean “parts of me are fucking squeaking ‘cause they just got the extra SRS BSNZ cleaning so they taste good” last minute. The ballet company he’s working for changed a bunch of design stuff for their holiday show and he just HAD to deal with the drama. He got done so late we both just…crashed, I tried to wait up for him but before I knew it the sun was up. It wasn’t his fault. I get that, I really do. I’m still royally pissed off. And I’m taking it out on anything and anybody near me. And the fact that Cas is on the other side of the building packing his own car so he hasn’t seen my less-than-pleasant attitude has nothing to do with anything, I’d be just as—yes I would too, you don’t know--!

Fine. I’m being this ornery because I can get away with it. Whatever. Grr.

Meanwhile Sam’s ride is here, he’s the last of our little posse to leave except Cas and me. We said g’bye to Garth the day before yesterday (I’m still recovering from that ALIENS-style hug) and Gabe left earlier this morning; I was still passed out but Sam said goodbye for Cas and me. I get the impression a lot more was said than that but I won’t ask for details, those two are hard to explain anyways. Things have _definitely_ changed between them but exactly how…that’s a story for another day. A hilarious, insane story. Still for another day.

Don’t worry, I *will* fill you in, I have to because it’s awesome. Heh.

On that note I do the Manly-Man David and Goliath Hug routine with my Sammy and nod to his dad, thinking he’s about to get into the car and head off. Instead he kinda pins me with that Look of his. Here we go, I knew this was coming…

“Cut Castiel some slack dude, he didn’t bail on purpose and you know it.” Again, there’s this _or else_ hanging in the air that makes me want to tell him to bite my ass but I think…

I think he just might do it. And I’d bet next semester’s tuition that his bite IS fucking worse than his bark.

I’d really like to take back the shiver I just had. With his hand on my shoulder I know he felt it. Fuck me. I haven’t got time to process this shit; now is NOT the time for Deep Thoughts About Sam.

Plus…I feel a little less mad. Somehow Sammy being all SAM, complete with uppercase letters, loosened up the knot in my belly. Changed it just a little, to that *other* feeling I’ve been getting when Uppercase Sam’s coming at me. I dunno if I can say I like it

{Fine I _could_ say it but I’m not gonna nyaah neener}

But it definitely…affects me. In a way I don’t hate. That’s all you get for now.

“Fine, I’ll be ‘nice’. Now go home, you’re blocking the little bit of sun out here with that Easter Island head.” Sam gives that crooked half grin and uses one hand to lobster-claw my left side, making me fucking EEP like a squeak toy ( _and just when did THAT SHIT start, did I miss a freakin’ meeting?!?_ ), before taking off.

I watch his car ‘til it’s small. I want to go home and see everybody there but Imma miss these fools I live with now…

“I’ll miss him too.”

Cas. Behind me, his arms wrapping around me. I make myself not just sink back into him. I’m MAD, remember?

Stiffening, I stay still and turned away; I know if I see blue eyes now I’ll just…I’ll be lost. As usual.

“All packed and ready? I know you have a _tight schedule_ to keep and all…” I feel him chuckle all indulgent and shit. I HATE it when I’m mad and he’s not, I feel like an idiot. No, I feel like a child. A spoiled brat child. Which is what I’m acting like, I know this. Fuck off.

Cas turns me, against my will. Kinda. His (gorgeous color of the sky on Hoth) eyes are laughing at my pouting as he backs me up against my Impala. “Kiss me, little Winchester. I have to go and I don’t want you angry with me. I’m sorry about last night, it was important to me too; you must know that.” I DO know that, and If I didn’t I’ve damn sure been told all morning. I feel my Mad cracking; Little Dean just wants to jump in Cas’ pocket and go home with him for the holidays…ugh, fine. Big Dean wants to go too but he actually has some sense, for once…

You know that kiss at the end of the Princess Bride, all the talk about how perfect it is? Ours is better. Ours makes theirs look like Gilbert Gottfried kissing…another Gilbert Gottfried.

We’ve talked about getting together before classes start back up; we can NOT go what’s basically a whole month without…I can’t survive that. I just can’t. We’ve left it up in the air, our schedules are crazy…but so are we….we have to go. One more kiss, then he’s teasing my nipple through my shirt even though he knows it drives me CRAZY while he does that _thing_ he does where he takes a deep, deep whiff up and down my neck (it tickles like hell but I always yield my bared neck even more for him, I can’t help myself) and then he’s packing me into my car.

“Now go get in your car, Cas.”

“Why? I want to see you off…”

“Please. I…I need to not see you standing here in my mirror.” I feel like a love-sick fool. I AM a love-sick fool.

I cannot watch him getting further and further away. I’ll wreck. I’ll BE a wreck. I’ll be a wreck in a wreck. I’m pitiful and I do not care.

He looks at me, and nods slowly. “Fair enough. Go home little boy, your family’s waiting and so is mine.” He reaches in through my window, grabs my hair and looks DEEP into my eyes—  
  
"Be good. _Behave._ Santa’s not the one you need to worry about.” That gravelly rumble could make Satan Himself a good boy.

Another soul-curling kiss and he’s gone. Dammit.

I’m NOT gonna cry, I’m a grown-ass man—

My phone’s blurping that I have a text. Huh, Cas can’t even be at his car yet…

…Gabe?

**HEY CHESTY, SAM SAID YOU MIGHT NEED CHEERING UP RIGHT ABOUT NOW**

Oh. Oh geezus no…

**I JUST STEPPED ON A GRAPE**

Don’t Gabe for the luvva---

**I FEEL BAD CUZ IT LET OUT A LITTLE WINE**

**FUCK YOU GABE OH MY GOD.**

**Merry Christmas Failchester.**

Sigh. He knows I’m sitting here with this idiot grin on my face and I do feel better.

**Merry Christmas. See you in January, Goofus.**

I have to text Sam:

**Thanks for siccing Gabe on me. Bitch :)**

Wait for it….

**You’re welcome. Get home safe. Jerk :)**

I’m good now. I reach in the backseat and grab my Angel bear from his bag, sit him in the passenger seat. Even do up his seat belt (say somethin’, I dare you. Yeah that’s what I thought.)

NOW, I can drive home.

&+&+&+&+&+&+&+&+&+&

Merry Christmas. I’ve only been home a few days and I’m already climbing the walls. Ho ho freakin’ ho.

Don’t get me wrong, I love my family, I really do. My dad’s a riot, he runs Winchester-Singer; a big huge car dealership that he and his half-brother, my Uncle Bobby, grew from just a little mechanic and salvage place over the last  
twenty years. My mom died when I was just four years old, she had some kind of fever the doctors couldn’t bring down; I barely remember, but I know she was burning up like she was on fire and then she was gone. Dad mourned for years before he married Rowena. Ro’s okay; we don’t always get along, in fact she can be a real witch when she wants her way, but she’s good for my dad and they gave me the best baby sister on the planet. Charlie’s a redhead like Ro, but otherwise she’s all Winchester, freckles and spunk. She’s ten going on thirty but tiny for her age. Which is why I still pick her up like she was five, she acts like she hates it but I know her. I actually like listening to all the intrigue and espionage of the fifth-grade gifted class, just like I enjoy hearing what’s up with Dad’s business that there’s pressure-what-pressure for me to take over one day when I’m done “playing actor”. Alrighty then.  
It’s not them. I’m going crazy because…dammit I miss Cas. I honestly didn’t realize just how used to being with him I’d gotten. I’ve seen him nearly every single day for months, even when I went home with Sammy for Thanksgiving (My family went to visit Ro’s folks in Scotland) I saw my Cas because he lives just a few hours from Sam’s place. I’ve kept busy, seeing my hometown friends and helping Dad around the office and just *sleeping* after days and days of finals…it’s not enough. I want my Castiel. Badly.

Which is why it makes perfect sense that I’m cranky with him every time we DO talk. Right?

There’s something seriously wrong with me. It’s not Cas’ fault we’re apart for now, that’s just life; he has a ton of responsibilities for the show he’s designing and his family wanted him home for Christmas or he’d have come home for at least a little while with me. On my end, with the family in the UK for Turkey Day they damn sure insisted I come home for Christmas. And I’m glad I did, I just…I can’t shake this attitude every time Cas calls. And he does call. And he texts. I am a royal pain in the ass every time. The last call was Christmas Eve, yesterday; I outdid myself in the Spoiled Brat department:

“Come to my place!”

“…we’ve had this discussion, little boy. I would if I could. I can’t.”

“You could if you wanted to, you’ve done enough work for that dumb old play!”

“…it is NOT a ‘dumb old play’, it’s the Nutcracker and I need a good design for it on my resume. And my family actually wants to see me, novel concept. Now behave and tell me you love me before I show up on your doorstep as Krampus.”

Ok, that part made me grin like that idiot in the rhyme who jacks up a perfectly good Christmas pie with his thumb. “What a Good boy am I!” my ass…focus Pinky…

“Why should I love you? If you loved me you’d come here and tell me in person.” Because that’s logical, right folks? What the hell is wrong with me…love is making me into an asshole.

“If I do come, at this point you won’t like how I say hello. At ALL.” There's the growl. The rumble. This is the part where an intelligent person would backpedal and make nice. I am not an intelligent person.

“Screw you Cas, if you wanted to see me you would. Guess I’m just not that important!” At this point I hang up and enjoy the way my phone buzzes for a few minutes before I have the courage to read the inevitable text:

 **Keep it up, little boy. I can take what you’re giving me. I wonder if you can take what I’ll be giving you.** Damn, you just know the Dred-brow is sky-high. My belly tingles in that _way._

That was last night. Today, all day, I’ve felt so bad about it. I’ve been so mean, mean and nasty. Ok, bratty, fine. I knew I was pushing it, knew he’s too far away to punish me. I pushed _because_ he’s too far away to punish me.

I know I’ll see him again in just a few weeks, guess I figured I’ll cross that lap when I get to it…I’m an idiot. He’s gonna blister me and I can’t blame him. Ah well, at least he’ll make it all better after. He always does…I gotta get out of this funk. Nobody’s home, the family went to Uncle Bobby’s for the night. Usually I go, but I just wasn’t in the mood this year. I’ll grab Clarence. Oh yeah, you don’t know: my sister went nosing through my stuff, found my Angel bear, didn't even ask me why I have a bear; just immediately decided his name is Clarence. Yeah, she just saw that movie. I don't care, in fact I like it. Anyway I’ll grab him from my room and go watch something stupid and Christmassy on TV and cheer the hell up, see if there’s any of that pie left…I wish I'd brought my Sassifier home but I left it with Cas; figured I wouldn't want it without him. I wasn't wrong, but still...wish I could just hold it in my hand. Anyway, I’m heading upstairs when I see something from the corner of my eye in the laundry room.

CLARENCE IS ON THE FUCKING FOLDING TABLE. I make a bee-line and find him sitting on top of all my nicely fucking folded clothes I brought home--!

She washed Clarence. That fucking witch WASHED CLARENCE GODDAMMIT--!!!!!

I can’t help it, I take a deep whiff and NOPE, Cas’ cologne scent is GONE IMMA KILL THAT WOMAN I SWEAR TO GOD I’LL BURN HER ASS AT THE STEP-MUTHA-FUCKIN’ STAKE---!!!!!

I have to calm down. I have to. She didn’t mean to, she’s not that evil…she didn’t know…how could she know about….SHIT…

_I miss him I miss him and now my angel bear smells like Mountain Fresh Morning not like my Cas this shouldn’t hurt like it does O…_

And just like that I’m broken to bits.

I’m sitting by the fire in the empty house, just holding my bear and wishing my Cas was holding _me._ Maybe I should’ve gone to Uncle Bobby’s with the family, at least I’d have been distracted from this…this ache. Is this what real love is like, this feeling like my heart is sleeping until it beats because I’m with him again? ‘Cause as corny and bullshit-sounding as that is, that’s how I feel. I must be in love, ‘cause I swear the sun don’t shine ‘til he tells it to. Just for me.

I said I wouldn’t call him I promised myself I’d leave it alone I…I said…

Why did I do this to myself why doesn’t he call me he must miss me too I know it I know he does…I can’t do this, the tree is so pretty but it’s just making me want to cry like a girl. That’s enough Christmas, I’m going to bed and taking my nice, squeaky fucking clean angel bear with me.

I turn off the downstairs lights and I’m about to put out the fire when I notice the headlights in the driveway. Huh, Dad and Ro must’ve decided to come back early. I really, _really_ don’t want to see anyone at this point (especially Ro and yes I know that’s immature dang it) so I’m about to scurry my sad sorry ass upstairs when my phone starts vibing in my pocket.

CAS.

Geezus my whole body is vibrating like the damn phone…!

I grab it and read his text:

**Merry Christmas, Brat. What are you up to?**

I text right back, I’m so happy to hear from him I could fucking cry:

**Family went away for the night. Just here missing you. I’m sorry Cas**

He answers, crazy quick:

 **Not yet. You will be.** Yeah, he’s going to make sure I don’t sit for awhile. At least I have a few weeks before—

Another text:

**You should probably let me in.**

Wha--?

And then it hits me. Dad and Ro and Charlie would’ve come in by now.

It can’t be. I basically throw myself back down the stairs and look out the front door.

Cas is standing at the end of my driveway. Trenchcoat and hands in his pockets, just looking at me. With shiny ocean eyes I can see from here.

Under the moonlight. He’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

I take off straight for him; barefoot. I don’t care about anything except getting to my Cas. Everything, all the cranky nonsense that’s built up inside me is falling away, I just want to feel his arms around me, nothing else matters.

Which is why I am SO not ready for what happens next. (Yeah I know, I’m never ready for what happens next with this man but geez…!)

Just as I get to him he hunkers down with his left shoulder forward; it’s too late to stop, I’ve got too much momentum and before I know what the hell he’s doing he’s got that shoulder against my middle and I’m UP and over and he’s carrying me back towards my house---!!! I’m upside fucking down and all I can see is snow and the backs of Cas’ legs; my first insane thought is how Ro would lose her shit if I wore good shoes like his in the snow…meanwhile on Earth I’m dangling like a six-year old, he’s got his arm wrapped around my legs and for the millionth time I’m wondering how is he so freakin’ _STRONG_ …

“CAS WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU—AAGH OW!!!“ because

**SWACK**

there’s the hard hand right across my conveniently vulnerable ass, pajama bottoms are absolutely NO protection and I hope to Baby Jesus the neighbors are far the fuck away from their windows; suddenly I remember just how much of a rotten brat I’ve been lately.

And my house is empty. Fucking _uh-oh._

Now might be a good time to apologize. A LOT.

“Cas listen I—OWTCH O C’MON PLEASE--!!!” More swats as he hauls me through my door and right to the living room, shoving the door closed with his other shoulder. Finally Cas slings me down but with a hand on the back of my pajama bottoms; he sinks to the floor right in front of the fire; I’m over his lap with his legs locking mine and my ass bare and burning faster than the snow is melting from his shiny grownup shoes. He didn’t even stop to take off his trench coat; I’m in a LOT of trouble.

“CAS!” I’m fucking wailing, he’s still wearing his black leather gloves and every smack freakin’ STINGS. The smooth, cool leather on my blazing rear-end is like nothing I’ve ever felt before; this has got to STOP. “CAS PLEASE I’M SORRY  
_SERIOUSLY!!!!!”_ All he does is spank harder and faster O my damn it hurts it HURTS--

“Don’t even try it, little boy, all you’ve done is brat at me for days and days, when you weren’t ignoring me; I didn’t deserve the way you’ve been behaving and you know it.” He’s OWW FUCK smacking the backs of my thighs from my ass down to right before my knees start and I’m gonna have to walk back to school because no way can I ever sit to drive again OWTCH OH

“I’m Sssorrreeee, I know I was mea-mean to yyyoouuu…” I gave up trying not to cry awhile ago, now I’m just praying no one comes home early to see this; I don’t EVEN want to explain this to…oh hell, to anyone who might come through that door. And somehow I know that my family coming home would not stop Cas. Not tonight. He’s on a mission and nothing’s gonna stop Project Naughty List Dean.

“You were mean” WHACK

“Disrespectful” SMACK

“…and unfair about a situation that you know wasn’t my fault.” WHACK SMACK SWACK

I’m on fire. Krampus-tiel is making my ass be on FIRE and all I can do is lie here and let him because he’s Cas and he’s right and he loves me. He’s spanking and spanking, I don’t have enough voice left to apologize anymore, I just bury my face into the rug and hope he’s done before school starts again...

“Obviously there’s been some confusion,” he says, stopping for a minute and reaching over to wipe a tear from the tip of my nose. “Apparently, you’ve been under the delusion that you only need to mind me _at school._ I believe I’ve just disabused you of that notion in a way that even a stubborn brat like you can comprehend, but let’s make sure we’re clear: _you are always mine._

"At school,"

**SMACK**

“At home,”

**SMACK**

“On Venus or under the sea.” **SMACK SWACK SMACK. ******“You will do your best and BE your best and behave the way you know I expect. The way I know you really _want_ to behave. And not to worry, I know you may forget now and again; I’ll be right there to remind you. Just like this. Are we clear?”

He’s stopped spanking, thank every god out there; I’m nodding and mumbling “YESSIR” as he’s rubbing circles on the smoking pile of kindling that used to be my rear end. The leather glove that was so terrible before feels…nice, it’s buttery soft and I bet it has other uses. Cas is turning me over, I get to sit up enough for a kiss…

_He’s pulling my pajama bottoms the rest of the way off I’m helping him shrug off his trench his shirt his pants I don’t even know where the shiny man shoes went I’m on my back OW god my ass hurts it HURTS I don’t even care  
Cas is here he’s here and he’s pulsing inside me my legs up and over and OH GOD ooohhhhhhh _

…and to all a good night. Yes indeed.

&+&+&+&+&

That sun is entirely too damn bright. It is entirely too early to be awake. I snuggle Clarence closer, rubbing the front of my Sassifier against his fur—

My Sassifier.

MY SASSIFIER I HAVE MY SASS--!! I’d do a Dance of Joy if my thighs would stop shaking.

Everything that happened last night/this morning is tumbling back into my poor, sex-erased brain. Cas had to leave at OMG o’clock this morning; apparently he had just enough time to spend the night with me before they need him this afternoon. How he’s going to have the energy to do anything is beyond me. Along with how I’m ever going to move again. My Castiel may have punished me (and I can’t say I didn’t deserve it), but after that…holy hell my whole body is throbbing. I am truly amazed we didn’t break this bed. Or the kitchen table. Or the damn Christmas tree. SO glad it’s fake, a real one and I’d be pulling pine needles out of places you do not want pine needles. Well maybe you do. Weirdo.

He kept the gloves on. I really like the way they…grip.

Things are hazy after the, um, Tree Situation. I know we came up here. I know that after even more…affection, yeah we’ll call it that …Cas finally decided I couldn’t take any more and needed to sleep. My Sass appeared out of nowhere and I was sooo happy I didn’t even have time to thank him before I was slipping into another dimension, Cas wrapped around me. Like he’s supposed to be.

The last thing I remember is turning over in his arms and rubbing my Clarence against my Castiel. I take a whiff of my Angel bear. Yep, he’s back. Mmmmmm. I don’t have my Cas but I have my Angel back and my Sass; I’m about to fall back into serious sleepage when I notice my phone. Yep, there’s two texts:

****Less than three weeks. BEHAVE.** **

Sigh. I can’t help freakin’ blushing. I do plan to be his Good Boy.

Then:

****Make sure it’s not too tight.** **

Make sure what’s not too…? OH THAT’S RIGHT

My fingers fly right to it, stroking the thin gold. I think…I think I just purred.

Right before he decided to put me to bed he placed it on me. A gold chain. It’s…dammit it’s beautiful. So slim you almost can’t see it against my skin, I tend to be kinda tan anyways…

It, well…it locks. There’s a tiny gold lock with a **‘C’** carved into it. Cas has the little key.

He told me the key will always be somewhere on him. Near his heart.

If I ever want to take off the chain, I have to ask my Cas to unlock me.

I never plan to ask.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't send Krampustiel after me, we will definitely see the adventures of Sam and Gabe comin' right up! :)


	9. The Tears Of A Clown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every doubt I had about what Cas was trying to tell me, everything I've learned in my classes about why spanking is evil...right out the window. Spanking IS wrong, I think, for little kids. College-age maniacs? Fair Game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter, and the next few, are *before* the Christmas Break story of Chapter 8.
> 
> As usual, thank you all SO MUCH for the kudos and **wonderful** comments, you guys rock!!! Hope you like this one, I had a lot of fun writing it :-D

"I don't know what to do with him, Cas, he's...he's just...UGH." Sam is pacing around my room, his extra-long strides clearing the entire space in just a few steps compared to most of the frustrated students I see. This is Sam's first time coming to talk, usually he's quite able to solve his own issues; he may be the most mature, self-assured young man in Bunker Hall.

That doesn't mean he's fully equipped to handle Hurricane Gabriel. 

"The room is a _mess,_ Cas. Gabe won't pick up after himself at ALL. It's not like I'm a neat-freak but it's RIDICULOUS, there's candy wrappers and crap everywhere--! And I am SO friggin' tired--no EVERYBODY is tired of his freakin' pranks. He damn-near scared the shit out of poor Garth with that fucking air-horn the other day--sorry, excuse my language." I wave his concern away, I don't mind if students swear in here; it seems as though it's needed for them sometimes, as they vent. Living with Gabriel would give a saint reason to vent.

"No worries Sam, say whatever you need to. Just tell me, what do you want me to do? I'd be happy to speak with him again..."

Sam sighs, running a hand through that hair of his. I know he's frustrated; he cares for his roommate very much. He doesn't want to get Gabriel into trouble or switch rooms with anyone. Not that _anyone_ would take him up on the offer, I can't help thinking with an inward chuckle; everyone loves Gabriel but that's because he's usually not their problem. Meanwhile I've already spoken to Gabriel, several times; Sam knows that if I have to speak with him again I have the right to have him moved to another dorm. Neither of us wants it to come to that. 

"I just don't want to fight with him anymore, y'know? We're at each other all the time. He listens to me for about 2 days and then he's back to being, well a little asshole! Junk everywhere and short-sheeting my bed...I'm six-four, do you _KNOW_   how much it sucks having my bed short-sheeted??" 

"I can't imagine it's pleasant." 

"NO, no it's not. I get that he wants to go into comedy for a living but that doesn't mean everybody around him has to deal with..." Sam doesn't have to finish. I know. 

The air-horn.

Vaseline on the door knobs. 

Black food-coloring in my little one's shampoo. That...was bad. I had to *order* Dean not to break Gabriel into various separate parts, luckily it washed out fairly quickly. And Sam's right, no amount of scolding, threats of bodily harm or even the notion of having to leave Bunker Hall has dissuaded Gabriel for more than a week or so. I admit, I know how I'd like to handle the situation...but as much as I like Gabriel--and I do, I must say he's as sweet as he is insufferable and in fact that's his problem-- he isn't _mine._ I knew my little boy was MINE practically from the moment I set eyes on him. Gabriel needs similar care, and I'll step in before I allow him to go far enough for expulsion from the Bunker...but for now it's not my place. 

Of course I know who's place it is. That's not for me to tell him. He'll have to figure this out for himself. 

I'll be happy to nudge him in the right direction though. For the good of us all.

I've noticed that he's...interested, shall we say...in how my relationship with his friend Dean has changed Dean's behavior for the better. Sam is extremely observant, a trait that will serve him well as a child psychologist or daycare owner; whichever way he goes professionally. That observant nature hasn't been picked up on by Dean, as far as I can tell...but I'm even more attentive than Sam; I have to be. And I've seen the way Sam files away how his friend takes a moment and thinks about his behavior...and the possible consequences...in my presence. Even without my presence, I'm sure. I don't believe that Sam has deduced the exact style of Dean's relationship with me, and for the sake of Dean's dignity that's a good thing for now. He's not ready for his friends, even his best friend, to know _everything_ about our relationship. Still, I deeply suspect that if Sam were to handle our Gabriel as I would...

"...how would you handle this, Cas? If it were Dean and not Gabe?"

My goodness. And here we are. The look of desperation on Sam's face makes me want to just tell him, guide him. I can't do that ( _at least not yet_ ) but...

"I would be firm with him, Sam. VERY firm. I'd make it clear that if he refused to act as an adult I'd feel no obligation to treat him like one." I take a sip of my coffee while Sam's digesting my words. 

"What do you mean, though? He's the same age as me, even if he _acts_ like a rotten little kid I can't exactly punish him or anything..." Sam looks at me. I meet his gaze, just continuing to drink my coffee in silence. 

Sam is...thinking. About Gabriel. About Dean. I believe I actually hear the wheels turning in his mind. It occurs to me that he knows *exactly* what I mean,  The question now is whether he'll find my way agreeable. And follow through. 

I'd wager that Hurricane Gabriel will soon meet Cyclone Sam. 

 

&+&+&

 

No way Castiel meant what I _think_ he meant. Just...no way. He can't...Dean wouldn't let...NO FRIGGIN' WAY. 

It makes entirely too much sense though. That's what's killing me. 

Too many things make sense once I start to really think about it. I left Cas' room and took myself off to the dining hall for a coffee. Sitting here on the steps I'm just...just putting together the pieces of a puzzle I admit I've been trying to solve for a few weeks now. Cas and Dean's relationship is none of my business, I know that...but Dean's so much happier. And he's more than happy, he's, like, balanced. Before he was all over the place, not getting his work done 'til the last minute (if then) and hanging out with some of the bigger fratholes around, and you don't want to know how much he was drinking; he didn't always have a safe way home either. Once he got with Castiel, all of that changed. And FAST. These days Dean studies as much as I do, and I'm a double-major. He wouldn't dream of driving home buzzed, in fact I can't remember the last time I saw him with a beer--! You'd figure that going out with the R.A. would have some influence on a guy's behavior, sure, and I understand wanting your boyfriend to be proud of you, but Dean did such a 180 I _had_ to know what the hell happened. I tried asking him about it, more than once, and all I got was "I just like making Cas happy. Now kindly fuck off." So I gave up on asking and just...watched. And I noticed that Cas and Dean communicate a lot without actually talking. Dean would be about to head off with us to some sketchy party off-campus and then Cas would just _look_ at him, and suddenly Dean had to study but he'd see us later. Or we'd be acting like fools late at night with the SCA guys and their foam swords, and Cas would just walk by, barely even looking our way; next thing I knew Dean was telling us to keep it down in case people were trying to sleep. Dean Winchester. Caring about noise in the dorm. Uh...yeah. 

Then there was that one night.

I was vaguely aware that Dean was in a nasty mood, apparently he'd had a monster of a test in Theatre History that day. I'd heard him mumbling for days before that everyone's name in the 1800's was "goddamned fucking JOHN." To my knowledge he ended up acing that exam but he was a BEAR the day he took it, cranky and snapping at all of us over nothing. Especially Cas. No idea what exactly he said to Cas, but when we all met for dinner neither of them joined us. I asked Garth where they were and he'd said Dean was in Castiel's room as far as he knew. I had to return Dean's psych notes from a lecture I'd missed (dentist appointment) and I knew he'd want them for the next day's study session so I took them to Cas' room after dinner, figured I'd hang with them for awhile before I went to bed myself. When I got to Cas' door...

I thought I heard...something. It sounded like, well, clapping. No, that wasn't right...it was more like _smacking_. It was faint and I wasn't even sure I heard anything, but whatever it was my gut told me I needed to jet. So I took myself off, thought I'd ask Dean the next day. Because it couldn't be what it sounded like. That was insane. _I_   was insane.

But get this: the next morning I texted Dean. Asked him to have breakfast with me. We met at the Commons and grabbed donuts and coffee. 

Dean had his standing up. When I asked him why he didn't sit with me he *blushed*. Said he just needed to stretch his legs, then changed the subject. Um...yeah. Whatever Dude.

I didn't see him sit for the rest of the day, until dinner. And he could not. Sit. Still. He was constantly shifting, like there was a flame under his friggin' chair. 

I didn't think anyone else noticed, but then Cas gave him this small smile and this _look_ and suddenly Dean was sitting still. He did not look happy about it. Cas did. It was...fascinating.

That was a few weeks ago, it's stayed in the back of my mind. Again, none of my business, but I couldn't help thinking about it. That Cas would...Dean would let somebody...

That if the Great Dean Winchester could become less dick and more awesome, and be happy about it...

 _So could Gabriel._  

I'm not Gabe's boyfriend. I still feel, I dunno...responsible for him. We're not...we're tight, I love the little goblin but we don't have _those_ feelings for each other. 

I've been wondering for awhile now if that matters. Now, talking to Castiel, I'm starting to think I need to find out. 

&+&+&

 

Saturday night. We're all heading over to the stage manager's place for a party. Meg and a few friends got a sweet place just off-campus and after a NASTY long afternoon of dress-tech (standing in costume *forever* while the lighting crew gets everything set for the show) we're all gonna cut loose. Sam and Garth are coming and I'm even dragging Cas along, Balthazar's gonna be there...it's gonna be a good night. I'm proud of Sam, we all know he doesn't like clowns but he's been to a few rehearsals and even joked about having a good time tonight as long as my friend Sully, who's playing the clown, isn't in costume at the party. Gabe bowed out last minute, said he had a paper he needed to work on. Must be a serious project if that guy's missing a party, ah well...

We're all having a BLAST, music's pumpin' and Cas is turning a blind eye to what might be in the punch as long as anybody having some is definitely not driving tonight. Most people are crashing at Meg's anyway so it's all good. Garth's got a cute girl on each bony knee, one unwraps a Jolly Rancher every so often and pops it in his mouth. With her tongue. Alrighty then. Dunno how he does it but he's the MAN. Sam's on the other side of the room talking with a group of folks about some movie or other, when a kid from our floor of the Bunker tells him that Gabe's outside and needs to talk to him privately. Sam looks worried as he goes to the door--

\--and a fucking CLOWN leaps outta nowhere and scares the everlovin' SHIT out of poor Sam. Who SHRIEKS, and no one who knows him can blame him, as he falls backward and takes two other people down with him. I am one of those people. I'm gonna kill me a clown. 

I look up from where I landed (on my ass on a hardwood floor under a Moose named Sam) and GABE is standing there in a goddamned clown costume, mask in his hand, laughing his ass off. People are laughing their asses off too, except for those who know my Sammy; we all saw the terror on his face and we know how real it was. Now that terror is turning to rage. GOOD. Cas is helping me up and I'm helping Sam and I'm about to kick Gabe's ASS--

I don't think I'll have to. Sam is up and _running._ Gabe's eyes and mouth make perfect "O" shapes and he takes off laughing. Sam...Sam's not laughing when he takes right off after the little nimrod. 

This promises to be fun.

I go to follow when Cas stops me, and I get it. Whatever's about to happen, it needs to be between them. Still we're all out on the porch when they disappear around the corner; when they reappear Gabe's not laughing anymore. Sam is still RIGHT behind him. His face is TERRIFYING and he's missing his left shoe, I notice his sock squishing in the snow...I gotta ask: 

 _"Dude where's your shoe??_ " 

 **"I LOST MY SHOE."** He's so mad he doesn't even seem to notice his must-be-cold wet foot...

Oh. Oh Geez.

Gabe is my friend. And I sincerely hope my friend gets his ass royally handed to him by my other friend. 

&+&+&

 

He is NOT getting away from me. Not this time. I have HAD it. I don't give a rat's ass what happens after this. 

We're getting deeper and deeper into the woods behind Meg's house, the trees are getting thick. Gabe's getting tired. I'm not. 

I'm just getting closer. 

Finally he can't run anymore. He's bending over, trying to catch his breath; I know he never expected me to chase him all the way out here. Truthfully, neither did I. No thought was involved beyond **Catch Gabe** and **Beat Gabe's ass.**  That was enough motivation. Four years of high school track helped too. Gabe knew that about me. Guess he wasn't thinking. 

I can tell he expects me to stop advancing on him when he puts a hand out while he's wheezing, this cold air doing a number on his lungs. 'C'mon Samster, gimmee a minute and I'll {wheeze, almost die, wheeze} say 'sorry' again, okay??" His eyes grow when I not only fail to stop, I keep coming at him. "Sam SERIOUSLY, gimmee a--HEYWULAAHHH!!!!" 

 

That was the sound of me scooping him up like a gnarly puppy. That's basically what he is. Every doubt I had about what Cas was trying to tell me, everything I've learned in my classes about why spanking is evil...right out the window. Spanking IS wrong, I think, for little kids. College-age maniacs? Fair Game. I wade through the snow with a kicking, fighting Gabriel under my left arm 'til I see a stump, the perfect height for what's gonna happen next. Gabe freaks even more when he realizes I'm sitting down. And he's going across my knee. I dodge a punch to the head and lock his crazy friggin' legs under one of mine to make him stop kicking like a nut. My arm across his back keeps him from jumping up and his head is so close to the snow (and the tree stump) that he can't do much to fight me at this point. 

"What the FUCK Sam, you're gonna fuckin' SPANK me?!? What kinda freak are you??" He's _snarling_ he's so mad. I'm trying to care. Not getting there. Instead of answering him I reach down and pull off one of his clown shoes. 

"NOW what are you-you crazy--this is BULLSHIT gimmee back my shoe!!!" 

With pleasure. 

I proceed to rip open the velcro holding the clown suit closed down to his waist, and then rip the rest of it 'til his rear end is right there, unprotected aside from his tasteful red boxers. Gabe is screaming at me; I do not care. I've never spanked anyone before, except a girlfriend on her birthday. This is...not that. 

I enjoy this more. That time was just for fun, it was just fifteen spanks with my hand. I didn't even get to use a clown shoe. 

I'm counting in my head, I can't help it. By the thirtieth swat Gabe is hoarse from screaming at me. By swat fifty he's just...he's still calling me names, "asshole" mostly, but mainly he's crying. I mean "little kid who just got a booster shot" crying. I don't blame him, this big shoe has got to sting. And I'm not being very nice with it. I'm pretty strong if I say so myself, and I haven't held back. It's been coming for too friggin' long.

Now. Now that he's not fighting me we can talk. Hopefully. Since I kinda can't feel my one foot. 

"...are you ready to listen?" I can tell he wasn't expecting me to say anything, he jumps a little. 

"The fuck do you wanna talk about?!?" Tsk, wrong answer. 

Ten more swats and I try again. "How 'bout now?" He's still beyond angry...but he's not stupid; he _can_ learn. He just nods. I tuck the shoe under my own rear-end and lift him up so he's standing between my legs. His face...oh my god. Gabe, with tears running down his cheeks and his angry eyes all wet and shiny, is friggin' adorable. I keep a clamp on his arms, adorable or not he still looks ready to punch my face down into my neck. 

"I know that was weird. BELIEVE me, I know. And I know what you're thinking, who the hell do I think I am and how exactly are you going to kill me. But I don't know what else to do with you, dude. No matter what I say you keep acting like a dick! The room's a mess because of you, people are tired of living in fear of your asshole pranks...I've seriously thought about switching rooms!" He looks pale at that, I've said it before but having his behind clown-shoed must mean I'm serious this time. I let him loose, to see what he'll do. He stumbles a few steps away from me...but stays. He's listening.

"Gabe, we can't go on like we have been. Everybody in the Bunker likes you but they also want to break your face half the time! You have GOT to cool it with all the B.S., stop with the pranks; Dean would have whaled on you WAY worse than what I just did if Cas hadn't stopped him that last time. You don't have to try to be funny all the damned time--"

"Yes I do."  He's looking *hard* at me, even harder than before. "No you don't Gabe--"

" **YES I DO**." His hands are balled into fists, this is a different Angry.

"You don't know! If I'm gonna be a comedian, a *real* comedian, I can't just turn it off; I need to be ON all the time so I can get better and see what works and what sucks and figure out what the FUCK I'M DOING; there's a MILLION guys out there trying to do the same thing as me and..and..." He stops, breathing so hard he's damn-near hyperventilating. There's more tears running down his face, he mops them with one hand and runs the other through his hair, not looking at me. I've never, ever, seen him like this; I've seen him upset but nothing like this. My anger was already draining but now...

How the hell do you stay mad at a crying, freshly-spanked sad little dude in a clown suit? I still hate clowns but my heart's friggin' breaking for this one. 

"'Cmere Gabe."

He shakes his head, starting to walk away. "Let me alone Sam, okay? Right now I--"

" _ **GABRIEL.**_ "  His head snaps back in my direction, eyes wide in the moonlight.

"Come. Here. You seriously don't want to make me come get you." He's about to say something when he really, _really_ takes stock of the look on my face. At this point I don't have to prove that I'm serious. Still this is Gabe, he can't just give in. Fine. I'll answer what he can't ask.

"Make me come over there and I'll carry your non-listening ass back here, put you over my knee again, and Clown Shoe aforementioned ass 'til it's the same color as that friggin' squeaky nose on your mask. If you run from me we both know I'll catch you. When I do I will drag you allllll the way back to the party and you can have your bare, frosty-hot ass shoe-smacked in front of everybody there. No one will stop me. In fact they'll probably clap. You've got five seconds to make your choice. **FIVE.** "

He's standing there, in the snow, totally freakin' thunderstruck; I almost feel bad, he really doesn't know what to do. 

He needs to figure it out. NOW. 

**"FOUR."**

"Sam for fuck's sake, I'm not your--"

 **"THREE."** I start tapping the shoe against the stump between my legs, the 'thump' echoing through the woods...

 **"T-"** Before I can even get the whole word out Gabe's in front of me. Mad as a--well hell, mad as a spanked clown, wonder if that's a saying somewhere in the world--but he did as he was told. He flinches when I drop the shoe and just hug him. Stiff and shivering and _furious._ We've been out here long enough. The crap between us has gone on long enough. Time to talk. 

"You're my dude, Gabe. I don't want another roomie. I just want you to not be an asshole. Can't we just make that happen?" 

I feel him kinda melt, he's not all stiff anymore. Still he doesn't hug back, he just doesn't resist. He's still pissed off and pretty freaked out. I should be too, this is all just  _weird._

But it isn't.

In fact that's what's weird, the fact that it's _not_ weird. It feels like we're moving in some...direction...that should have been _the Way_ for weeks now. I know he feels it too, he's just fighting it more than I am. Don't blame him, I'm not the one with the red eyes and redder ass...

He pulls away from me; I think he's gonna bolt but he just...eyes me all warily.

"I don't know how."

It's barely audible, more of a mutter. 

"...beg pardon?" I keep a hand on his shoulder, rubbing just a bit, like they taught me at the preschool where I work part-time. Yes I'm using Preschool Teacher stuff on Gabe. So would you.  

He sighs, his breath hitching a bit. This is hard for him. I hope he knows that I get that...

"I've been an asshole forever. It's my 'thing'. My whole family's like this." I think of an entire house of Gabes and my brain tries to fry itself. Good God. 

"I'm not saying you shouldn't be yourself dude, just...turn it down. You don't have to be on "10" all the time, y'know?" I notice he's leaning into my hand that I drift down to his back; if rubbing will make him talk I'll keep it up 'til a freakin' genie pops out. 

" I don't mean to be a dick, Sam. I just...by the time I _know_ I've pissed people off it's too late so I...I..."

"...so you try to play it off like you don't care. I know. I also know it's bullshit, you DO care." He doesn't agree but he doesn't deny it either, just glances up at me before his eyes go back to the snow at his feet. I want to hug him for like eleven hours. Instead I feel myself make a decision.

"I'm gonna help you." He looks up at me, again with the wary eyes. 

"I don't think...what does that mean...?" Here we go, put up or shut up. I take a breath and just lay it out:

"It means I'm gonna help you be less of a pain in the ass."

"Uh, how?"

"By being a pain in **your** ass." His eyes go as wide as satellite dishes. Seriously he looks like a Rowdy Ruff boy (male Power Puff Girl. Don't ask me how I know that). "Get the fuck--you can't--fuck off Sam you're not my dad!" He actually does try to bolt then; more out of panic than real defiance. Whatever, my grip on his collar says he's staying. "I meant what I said before Gabe, run from me and you WILL regret it. You wanna go into show business? We can put on a show for everybody at Meg's right now." He stops struggling; he looks like he REALLY wants to take a swing at me though. Luckily he's not that angry. Definitely not that stupid. Just starts sputtering at me, he has to at least _try_ to fight this...whatever this is gonna be...

"You can't--"

"Sure I can."

"I won't fuckin' let you...!"

"You can always try to stop me. It'll go about as well as it did tonight." THAT fires him up for a minute, his eyes flare and so do his nostrils; I actually think the mad little Monchichi is gonna fight me even though he knows he'll lose...instead he just, well, deflates. His eyes well up and tears run down his cheeks again as he's turning away from me. This time, though, I know he's not going anywhere. 

"I'm not trying to be your dad, dude. Hell, you're only three months younger than I am. I just--I know I can help you figure out whatever-the-hell is up with you. And we can have a cleaner room and stop fighting all the damn time." He looks back at me at that; I know that he wants the same things. Not that he wants to clean the damn room. Oh well. He friggin' WILL. But that can be dealt with tomorrow, right now it's FREEZING out here. Time to officially make this a Thing. I pull him back into me by the front of his costume, looking him dead in the eye.

"You and I are friends. Equals. Unless you act like a dickhead. Then I'm in charge. Nobody has to know unless you're a Public Dickhead. Fair enough?" He's staring at me, a million questions in his 

_horrified relieved grateful_

eyes. He nods, reluctantly. "It's two degrees, can we go the fuck back to the Bunker now??" I nod, letting him go. I expect him to stomp off ahead of me.

Instead he stands there a second, then bumps my shoulder with his forehead. 

Huh. Well then. 

We take off for the Bunker, together. Both of us quiet. We definitely have stuff to iron out. Tomorrow.

For tonight, we're still buds.

_Different._

But still buds.

That's enough for now.

 

 &+&+&

 

"I want coffee." 

"...hooray for you, go get some." 

" _Cas..."_

 _"_ Forget it, I got up last time."

"But you love me!"

"...I do. That's why I'm teaching you the art of Fairness."

"Cas!" I push at his back, I know I'm just sealing my Doom but the Brat in me has no sense this morning.

"Keep it up, little boy..." That rumble means "last chance to avoid calamity". I do not heed because I am an idiot.

"Just. Go. Get. COFFEE." I shove him with each word. That's all I remember before the madness descends. Cas growls, a hand grabbing me by the hair FAST before I can get out of reach; he doesn't pull hard but I've learned to go where my hair is going or else. I'm under him, he's molded himself to me while he's tickling the living DAYLIGHTS out of my hip bones and _chewing_ on my hideously fucking ticklish neck I wanna smack at him it'll get worse if I do why do I never remember how horrible this is til it's too late??

_and how come now tickling makes my cock harder than a Mike Tyson punch Cas what have you done to me_

"CAAAS PLEA--AH'LL G-GO GET IT JUS (GASP) LEMMEE GOOOO P-PLEEASSS--" He squeezes his hands in between us and pumps both our cocks together while he's still tickling my neck and the curve of my jaw with his lips and tongue, it's awful amazing I only see these colors when Cas makes me see them _AAHHH_

I'll go for the coffee. After more sleep and a serious shower. 

 

I'm heading back from the Common Room with the All Important coffee ("You've got 10 minutes young man, if I have to come fetch you we'll have more *fun*. _Shiver ),_  even snagged some donuts;decide to stop by my room real quick and see if Garth wants to watch a movie later. I've been forbidden from "bothering" Sam and Gabe but I can ask Garth if he knows anything. I knock just in case he's not alone or otherwise enjoying lack of Me in the room. When he tells me to come on in he's just...sitting at his desk. Looking like he just came from a side show. 

"Wassup dude, you ok?" His face tells me that no, no he is not. 

"I just went over to Sam n' Gabe's room to see if they wanted to get breakfast..." he stops, looking like he's not really sure how to go on. 

 "And? Just spill it dude, are they ok...?" He looks at me a second then:

 "Gabe was cleanin', Dean. _CLEANING_." I just stare at him. I must not have heard him right. That's like saying Michael Jackson was singing baritone; it just doesn't happen. 

 " _Our_ Gabe?' 

  _"_ _Our_ Gabe. He was pickin' up all his candy wrappers and pop bottles an' everything. I couldn't believe it. And Sam...Sam was...." again Garth stopped. Scratched the side of his head and then looked at me with a weird expression, like he was sure I wouldn't believe whatever he was about to say next. He blinked at me, shook his head and went on: 

 "Sam was sittin' at his desk readin' a book, kinda rockin' on its back legs with his arms crossed like he always does when he reads; this time though, he had his book in one hand, and...and a clown shoe in the other."

"...whut...?" 

"Man, don't _even_ ask me. All I know is when I asked if they wanted to go eat, _Sam_ answered me for both of 'em. He didn't even look at me at first, kept watchin' Gabe while he told me they both had a lot of work to do but maybe we'd all grab dinner. IF they both got everything done. Gabe looked at me like he wanted to say something, but then he looked at Sam and went right back to cleaning. It was WEIRD. Whatever's goin' on at least their room'll be less-gross, but I'm steerin' clear for awhile; the look on Sam's face gave me the willie-creeps." 

I like him, he says "willie-creeps". Meanwhile I gotta see this. I immediately turn to head down to their room--and guess who's right there behind me, I almost drop the tray. Crap, I'm late.   _And_ _w_ _hy is Cas ALWAYS between me and the goddamn door?!?_

Of course he heard everything, or just enough. Rats. Maybe...? 

 _"_ No." 

"Aw c'mon Cas! I just wanna see--"

"You "just wanna" be nosy. Leave it alone." 

"But--" and Pop! goes the Dred-Brow. Oops.

Cas takes a step closer. I take a step back. And another just for good measure. I know if I push whatever he's thinking WILL happen in front of Garth: DO NOT WANT. 

"I'm, um, gonna study in here for awhile, I need to catch up on a few things..." I give him the 'Oh What A Good Boy Am I!" look, even bat my eyelashes. No it never works but I have to try...

The Brow doesn't lower but his eyes laugh at me. "That's a very good idea. In fact why don't you stay here until I come for you; I'll speak with Sam and we can all head to dinner together." TRANSLATION: _"consider yourself confined to quarters until I say otherwise, are we clear? "_ I nod in understanding, forcing myself to keep the pout off my face; he crooks his finger at me to come closer. He takes the tray in one hand and wraps an arm around me; a quick pinch of my ass/thigh right in that fucking ticklish spot, my oh-so-manly YELP gets swallowed by his quick, seriously effective kiss. Takes his coffee and donut and shoves the tray back at me, with a wink he's gone. Sigh.

Garth, when I glance at him, is back to studying, but the grin on his face cannot be denied. Ah well, Ichabod's got my back; if he approves of us we must be a good couple. I'm okay with that. 

 

&+&+&

 

"For the last time man, you were WASTED last night; you don't know what you're talkin' about."

"I'm tellin' you, I was buzzed but I _know_ what I saw!"

"...you *know* you saw a huge angry monster chasing a clown."

"Yes!"

"Through the woods. Right by campus."

"YES."

"Of course you did. Happens all the time." Chuck smirked and turned back to his laptop, shaking his head.

Alfie just glared at his roomie. Frickin' Chuck. Thought he was God and knew everything. 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I do have a *lot* in store for our Sam and Gabe, yes our Sam will be learning from his good friend Castiel, and yes there's some Sam and Dean comin' up in the next chapters!


	10. Dean Winchester and The Lousy, Shitty-Ass, Fucked-Up, Godawful Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is ridiculous, pay no attention; I wanted to do something different to celebrate reaching 10,000 hits, this popped into my head when the lovely SankatyLight mentioned Dr. Seuss and "a stressed-out, bratty Dean" in her *wonderful* comment on my last chapter; not Seuss but one of my favorite books in the universe :)

I went to sleep with my Sass in my mouth now it's half up my nose and when I get out of Cas' bed this morning I slip on my bear and hit my forehead on the night stand and Cas puts a big dumb Band-aid on the bump. I get white toothpaste on my black shirt and I pop the leather tie for my amulet when I'm brushing my hair and I can tell it's gonna be a lousy, shitty-ass, fucked-up, godawful day. 

 

At breakfast Garth has his favorite chocolate cereal and Sam gets that mocha coffee he really likes but Gabe gets the last chocolate donut and It's too late to get in another line so I have to have one with coconut and I HATE coconut.

I think I'm moving to Moondoor.

I drop my Abnormal Psych book in the snow and when I go to pick it up I get snow in my glove and now my fingers are all numb. I'm late and try to sneak in but Professor Marv sees me and makes the whole class thank me for joining them.  I bump like twelve people getting to the only seat left and some dick even taller than Sam is sitting in front of me and I can NOT see. I whisper can he please SCRUNCH. I growl could he please SQUISH. I hiss that if he doesn't smaller his Franken-head somehow I'll fail and never graduate and be homeless and it'll be ALL HIS FAULT. He never even answers.   

 I can tell it's gonna be a lousy, shitty-ass, fucked-up godawful day.

 In my drawing class Madam Harvelle likes everyone's nude except mine, she says the boobs are too 'enthusiastic'. In European Geography I forgot about Finland. Who the fuck needs Finland??

This is definitely a lousy, shitty-ass, fucked-up godawful day.

I can tell because Cas has other kids to talk to all day or his work and I can't see him and I text him 

**I'M MAD**

and 

**YOU SUCK**

And I can't get into my room because Garth has a girl in there and I need my freakin' English Lit notes and now Garth's my third best friend AFTER Gabe.

 _I HOPE YOU GET BIT BY A WEREWOLF,_ I yell through the door. _I HOPE THE NEXT TIME YOU OPEN A JOLLY RANCHER THE CANDY PART FALLS OUT OF THE WRAPPER PART AND LANDS IN MOONDOOR._

Cas pokes his head out of his room and I run before he can say anything. I may HAVE to move to Moondoor.

At lunch it's just me Sam and Gabe and Sam has his nasty green smoothie and Gabe has just Gummy Bears and a shake 'cause he friggin' loves sweets and so do I but guess what day they don't have any pie??

It's a lousy, shitty-ass, fucked-up godawful day.

That's what it is, because after lunch my car is making a _noise_ and I figure out what the problem is but when I call the mechanic's he says he has that part for every car in the universe except mine. Come by next week and we'll have it, for sure. Maybe.

Next week, I grumble, I'm moving to Moondoor.

At rehearsal Balthazar says I'm not _enunciating_ _properly_ and makes me run my lines 100 gazillion times before he's happy. It still sounds the same to me but whatever and then Ruby says my costume isn't fitting right and when she tries to fix it she sticks me with a PIN and I FREAK 'cause it HURTS and Balthazar scolds me for being mean to Ruby and holding up rehearsal...!

"I'M HAVING A LOUSY, SHITTY-ASS, FUCKED UP, GODAWFUL DAY," I tell everybody. Nobody even says anything. I think Sully's hiding.

After rehearsal I decide I'll surprise Sammy and pick him up from his daycare job so I take my noisy-ass car down to get him; while I'm waiting for him everything's awesome except for the block tower I accidentally walk through and the little girl I knock into a wet finger-painting when I'm backing away from the blocks and when Sam sees all the kids that are crying so hard you can hear them in Moondoor he says surprises are nice but please don't come pick him up anymore. 

It's been a lousy, shitty-ass, fucked-up, godawful day. 

I drop Sam off at the Commons then go back to the Bunker. I text Cas that

**I'M CRANKY AND I HATE FUCKING EVERYTHING AND I'M GOING TO BED AND TOMORROW I'M MOVING TO MOONDOOR.**

and he texts back

**Get down to my room NOW little boy.**

Great now I'm gettin' a spanking. 

Makes sense on this stupid dumb day.

Cas lets me in and he's got his pajama pants on and tells me to go take a shower Young Man. He smacks my ass HARD as I stomp by. 

I stay in his shower for years and years because in here there's nice hot water and out there is a Cas and probably a mean old hairbrush.

I might climb out the window and take off for Moondoor. 

Cas comes in and turns the water off. He dries me with a big fluffy towel and puts me in my Buzz pajamas and tells me to go lay down.

He has pizza (!)

and pie (!!)

and he puts his laptop on the night table where we can see it playing some DVD that has a bunch of old Looney Tunes on it, I lay across his lap and I'm eating while he spanks and rubs my bottom all nice and gently through the flap and he's stroking my back and my hair and just... _sigh._

Thank you Cas, I say. It was a lousy, shitty-ass, fucked-up, godawful day. 

Cas says some days are like that. Even in MoonDoor. 

 

 

 

 

 

     

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy the actual book here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GOGv3Cptb7I 
> 
> Hope the ending was sweet for those who wanted to see a caring Cas, so did I :-)


	11. DayQuil Days and Jedi Knights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You're not going. Not tonight. Neither am I. You're going to finish more of your work here, have a nap, and later we can spend the night in my room and I'll take care of you. OR you can have your bottom spanked 'til it's twice as warm as your forehead and then stay here in your own bed, no phone and no laptop until tomorrow. Your choice." He reaches over and closes my mouth; I didn't even know it was hanging open. Geezus, either that was as hot as my fever or I'm delirious. Probably both.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again thank you all SO MUCH for the kudos and comments and all the lovely emails asking for an update, I adore you all ♥ 
> 
> (There's a little nod to the insanely wonderful "A Traditional Family" by Majestic_Duck, hope that's ok Duck, love you!)

"UGH, how much time left?" Gabe's pacing around all agitated behind Garth, stopping every few seconds to look over Garth's shoulder at the screen of his laptop. Sam glances at them from where he's sprawled on our floor like a shaggy Saint Bernard with his book, shaking his head a little at Gabe's...Gabeness.

"T-minus 2 minutes 57 seconds; we're gonna be fine; stop worryin' and sitcher self down!" Garth's fingers hover over his keyboard, his focus intent and unflappable. Except for the antsy pest fluttering around behind him. Sam hears the annoyance in Garth's voice, something so rare coming from our bony Hug-Monster that it warrants action.

"Gabe, come sit down and chill before you distract him and we have no choice but to kill you." Gabe just waves a hand back towards Sam while still pacing, his eyes glued to the screen. 

"Fuck off Samwise, I just wanna watch when he--"

" **Gabriel.** "

 D'uh-oh! Uppercase SAM in da house, make popcorn and cue the dramatic music! I am not a good person.

I try (and probably fail) to act like I didn't notice the vibe-change in the room. I'm definitely paying attention, these two are awesome lately. And they honestly think nobody's noticed...hell maybe no one's noticed but me. I'm very ok with that. 

Sure enough, Gabe stops in his tracks and turns toward Sam. I have to make myself keep my eyes on my English paper; I _really_  wanna look at Sam too; can't help it. Lucky for me my peripheral vision is amazing, it really comes in handy these days...like right now. Sam's face is normal, almost blank, but at the same time... _it isn't_. His hooded eyes say something the rest of his mellow expression just doesn't. 

_I fight the stupid quiver my belly is trying to send all through me; this is SAM not Cas, nothing to do with me...yeah right._

Gabe kinda blinks at Sam; he's totally about to say something snarky and I cannot wait. Sam's gaze is just...damn. I think the word is _unwavering._ I'm losing the fight with that fucking quiver.

Gabe...apparently decides it's not worth it; I'm a little disappointed, Davey and Goliath here are hysterical. I barely hear him mutter "FINE, Concernicus!", scowling (pouting, lets call it what it is) before coiling up on the other end of my bed like a cranky cat that's just been brushed against its will. Starts playing a game on his phone without another word. Sam's look morphs from scary-calm to Satisfied Sasquatch, it's actually cool to see.

I dunno _exactly_ what happened with these two on Clown Night, as everybody who was there calls it, but I have my ideas. And I freely admit it: I fucking love Uppercase SAM.

Provided he's never pointed at me, that is...well of courseI'm _curious_ , who wouldn't be, that doesn't mean--!

Aw shut up. Hatechu. 

Meanwhile I thought I was slick but Sam apparently saw my smug mug (ha! I rhymed) and decides I need to be taken down a notch: "Gabe, tell Dean that new one!" Oh goddamn you--! Gabe immediately perks up:

"Awright Chesty, how'dya stop a baby from crying in space?" 

...whut.

I can't take it, I gotta know.

"I have no idea, Doofus, how DO you stop a baby from crying in space?" 

"YOU ROCKET!" Oh for--dammit--!

'FUCK YOU GABE!" I'm about to jump him for a proper beat-down when:

"GOT 'EM!!!" Garth's doing a little Garth-dance in his chair. HOLY SHIT HE GOT 'EM. For a split-second I totally forgot anything but the Sam 'n Gabe Show. Featuring Dean as the local gullible idiot.

"Seriously you got all five?" Sam asks as we all huddle around Garth's desk. "Yup, best seats in the place too; we're watchin' THE FORCE AWAKENS in 3D, on OPENIN' NIGHT in exactly one month!!!" We all "WOO!!!" and high-five like the geek 7th-graders we really are while I throw two huge fistfuls of Jolly Ranchers on the desk before Our Hero; we've been waiting FOREVER for this movie; gave Garth the cash and he just snagged the tickets on his bank card the millisecond they went on sale. I get my phone out to text Cas, this is SO righteous:

**GARTH GOT THE TIX, WE'RE ALL GOING. SO MUCH EXCELLENT!!!!!!!!!!!!**

Yes this warrants that many exclamation points. I get to see a new STAR WARS movie with my best friends and my Castiel. Life is perfect and amazing and all things awesome.  

 

&+&+&+&+&

 

"Whadaya BEAN I can' go??" I'm sitting up in my bunk, books and my laptop scattered around me over my blankets. This is my fifth day in bed and I'm catching up on assignments I've missed since I got sick earlier this week. I should blow my nose for the eleventeenth time today so I don't sound like Elmer fucking Fudd,but it's so sore I just can't right now. Not tellin' Cas that though...

"What did we agree on?" Cas is leaning against Garth's desk, ridiculously hot in dark blue jeans and a black v-neck sweater. Blowing on the hot chocolate he brought me, apparently as a bribe to soften the blow. It ain't gonna work goddammit.

"Doe way Cas, I'be waited TOO LOG fuh dis--" the Dred-Brow is going up but I don't care, I am NOT missing THE FORCE AWAKENS tonight no matter WHAT he says. I'm a grown man and I make my own damn decisions! I'd beat on my chest but it'd make me start coughing again. Fuck. 

"What did we agree on, Punk?" Aw, that's fighting dirty. He calls me "Punk", no one but me knows it's short for "Punkin'. Melts me into goo every time, I hide it in front of the guys but still. Damn. 

He brings over the hot chocolate and sits on the edge of my bunk. Hands it to me, running a hand up and down my leg over my blanket and giving me that "here's your chance to be a rational adult" look. I hate that look. Because it makes me want to _be_ a rational adult like he expects. Crap.

"We said I cud go if my feeber was gone and I wudn't cawfin'. But my feeber's only 100° and I'm not rilly cawfin' anybore...!" Cas shakes his head at me, runs a hand through my (kinda sweaty and oogy) hair. 

"I brought you cocoa because--"

"Becawse yoo lub bee!" I flutter my lashes (which actually makes me a little dizzy, damn I _am_ still sick). He smiles but the Dred-Brow stays up, rats.

"Yes because I love you, but also because you were coughing so hard earlier I thought your lungs were full of confetti and spider-webs. And 100° counts as a fever. Especially when you've been as ill as you were." I want to argue with him but I can't, I *was* pretty freakin' dead this whole week. Don't care though, no WAY everybody's going except me! I'm about to tell Cas this and damn the consequences

 _(plus even he's not mean enough to spank a guy with a fever, right? RIGHT??)_  

and my face must give me away; he plucks the cup from me and places it on the floor, turns back to me and his look could probably burn out any virus known to man. Ever seen an ice cube on fire? That's what his eyes look like. Oops. 

Cas leans in as much as the bottom bunk will let him; he's not mad, just...serious. Still makes me want to apologize for stuff I didn't even SAY yet.

"You're not going. Not tonight. Neither am I. You're going to finish more of your work here, have a nap, and later we can spend the night in my room and I'll take care of you. OR you can have your bottom spanked 'til it's twice as warm as your forehead and then stay here in your own bed, no phone and no laptop until tomorrow. Your choice." He reaches over and closes my mouth; I didn't even know it was hanging open. Geezus, either that was as hot as my fever or I'm delirious. Probably both.

I'm still kinda outraged though. 

"You can'...you can' 'pank me, I'be sick!" He grins, that evil sparkle that I love/hate lighting up his eyes; at least they're not on fire anymore. "If you're well enough to argue then you can handle some time with the Loopy, correct?"

OH FUCK THAT. I sink back into my pillow, utterly fucking defeated. I _know_ he's right, I have no business going anywhere tonight. Still...NEW FUCKING STAR WARS DAMMIT--! 

"I know how much you wanted to go Punk, I really do. Be my good boy and I promise we'll have a lovely evening anyway. Trust me?" I do, he knows I do. Sigh. 

Cas tucks me in and lovingly threatens parts of my anatomy with harm (how does he *do* that?) if I leave my bed before he comes back later. Whatevs, I'm too sleepy to care. I take another swig of NyQuil and pass the hell out, dreaming of droids and Millenium Impalas. 

 

&+&+&+&+&

 

Damn near knock my phone off my nightstand; damn thing is grumbling about a new message, from Gabe...?

**DEAN QUICK NEED YOUR HELP MY ROOM NOW**

Well shit--! I leap the fuck outta bed and take off for their room in just my pajama bottoms and a t-shirt, at least my nose isn't stuffed up anymore; can't kick who/whatever's ass if I can't even breathe...

I bust into their room to find...nothing but Gabe. Smirking at me from the middle of the room. What the fuck. 

"Gabe, tell me there's monsters after your dumb ass or something or so help me I will end your LIFE, I'm still sick and--"

"Relax Failchester, I got you down here for a good reason: I'm gonna smuggle you outta here to see the movie!" Gabe smiles like he's doing me the World's Biggest Fucking Favor as he throws a ginormous Sam sweatshirt at me. WHAT.

"Are you insane? Don't even answer that, it was rhetorical. I can't go, you KNOW how much I want to but I'm seriously still not feeling great and I'm spending the night with Cas and--" Gabe holds a hand up as he throws a random pair of workboots at my feet. On my toes to be exact, fucking OW. "Are you even listening to me??" 

"Nope. We're a crew, we can't see the flick without you; sack up and grab some cough drops and let's GO." He's already putting his own boots on like I'm just gonna do what he says. Speaking of doing what people say...

"Gabe, where's Sam?" His head is down but I see him stiffen a little. Uh-huh.

"Sam's in his last class, he's supposed to meet Garth and me at the movie." How convenient. 

"Gabe, Sam knows I'm not supposed to go tonight. Cas'll have a cow and Sam'll--"

"Sam will what?!" Gabe's head whips up and I can't figure out if he looks mad or...defiant, that's what that is...I hold my hands up, not looking for a fight. Not about that anyway. "Dude, all I'm saying is it's better for EVERYBODY if I take my weak ass back to bed, I don't need my boyfriend ('cause Cas is my boyfriend, heh yay) mad at me. I'm out, I'll see you later--" Gabe looks past me all of a sudden, like he saw something behind me.

Or heard something. Oh yeah, you can see where this is going.

 "Shit, Sam's coming! Lay down!"

"...Whut...how do you even know--HEY!!!!" Gabe's shoving me down on the floor by the bunk beds and dumping a hamper of dirty-ass laundry on top of me--!!! "Stay still and be QUIET, I'll get rid of him and we can go!"

"WHAT?!? Gabe this is BULLSHIT I can't--!!!" And before I fucking know it there's another pile of clothes on me and I hear the door opening; the FUCK is happening to my life--!  

 

(Gabe has a hamper now? Huh, Sam *is* making progress with the little gremlin.)

 

I'm hiding in a goddamn pile of dirty fucking laundry like a criminal in a bad cartoon. There is a pair of gold bikini underwear on my FACE. I didn't even DO anything, why am I hiding?? 

 

_Because I was supposed to be in bed Cas is gonna kill me if he thinks I was gonna go see the movie wait no he'll believe me he knows Gabe is the fucking juvenile delinquent around here not me_

_but Sam Sam what if Sam is mad at me who cares I care Sam Cas Sam what is wrong with me gonna cough gonna COUGH FUCK SHIT I GOTTA_

 

and I'm fucking coughing. And a gigantic paw pulls me out and UP. Oh my fucking god it's like being lifted by a CRANE. Sam has me by the back of my shirt; he's looking at Gabe though, and Gabe looks like he'd gladly get shot out of a cannon to get out of this room. 

 "Well look at this, never know what you'll find when a Friday class gets out early. Your filthy clothes are probably alive by the time you wash 'em but I never heard 'em COUGH before." Sam never takes his eyes off Gabe while he hands me a water bottle from their dorm mini-fridge. I drink so I don't die and so I can talk:

"Sam SERIOUSLY, I was just sleeping in my own freakin' room when this assnozzle--!" I have to tell him I wasn't gonna disobey Cas; I don't want him telling Cas I was gonna sneak off to the movie

_and you don't want Uppercase SAM thinking that either or maybe you DO just admit it you weirdo-freak-hiding-in-dirty clothes muh-fucka_

since for once I was actually gonna, well, behave. Novel concept that I'm not about to let fucking GABE ruin. Sam lets me go and pats my shoulder.

"I know this wasn't your idea dude, calm down." Geezus, the look he's giving Gabe would scare away Death-Eaters. Gabe is TOTALLY about to bail, even if he has to leave a Gabe-shaped hole in the wall to do it, when Sam reaches out with a long-ass orangu-pus tentacle/arm; grabs Gabe by the back of his hoodie and his face DARES Gabe to fight him. Gabe's an idiot but he's not  _that_ stupid.

He's still Gabe though:

"Let me the FUCK loose Sam and mind your own goddamn BUSINESS I'm not your fucking--" Sam just leans down enough to be right. In. Gabe's. Face.

"'Zilla. Three." The hell does that mean? Whatever it is it definitely gets Gabe's attention, his face drains from angry red to pale pink-ish white pretty damn quick.

"No, c'mon I--" Gabe sputters as Sam's voice goes even quieter.

"One more word, ONE more, and it's 'Zuki for ten. PLEASE go for it." I stand there fucking mesmerized and drinking more water while Gabe kinda crumbles a little. His lips zip shut so hard I actually hear it. I *WILL* find out what the hell ZIlla and Zuki mean dammit...

'C'mon, it's getting late and I am NOT missing this movie over this crap. OH, sorry man!" Sam squeezes my arm as he hustles us into the hall. I plan to go the hell back to bed but Sam has other ideas, he marches us down to Cas' room still holding Gabe by the back of his hoodie; I'd enjoy that if the thought of missing the movie wasn't breaking my heart all over again. Fuck.

 

 &+&+&+&+&

At the knock on my door I expect a student in need of counseling, or perhaps just a quick question. Truth be told I more expect a sad and naughty Dean, yes he was supposed to stay in bed until I came for him, but that doesn't mean he wouldn't appear anyway in need of reassuring snuggles (along with a few spanks, equally reassuring if not more so).

What I definitely do not expect is a VERY testy-looking Sam. Holding onto a guilty-seeming Gabriel by the scruff of the neck while my Dean lingers behind them, on the other side of the hall; his expression one of bemusement and more than a bit of worry. Whatever has him out of bed obviously has to do with the miscreant being held by his much-put upon roommate. I wait patiently for an explanation; to quote my boy, "This'll be good."

"Heya Castiel, I think this belongs to you." Sam nods his head back toward Dean-"and this one has something to tell you." Gabriel's eyes are affixed to a spot by my feet. He looks up at me, and while he does seem contrite about...whatever this is...that Gabriel Spark is still there. Hmmm...I should warm Sam but before I can--

"DEAN DON'T!" Gabriel shouts and tries to turn his head behind him; Sam reflexively turns his head around to see my boy just standing there in total innocence while Gabriel shimmies out of that hooded jacket he was slowly unzipping and takes off down the hall, leaving Sam holding aforementioned Jacket utterly and completely *stunned*. "Oh HELL no!!!!!!" growls Sam as he takes off after his (friend? Charge? Hellion?) down the hall and out the main exit. Dean and I peer after them, both of our mouths slightly agape. I'd imagine that one day we'll be unaffected by Sam chasing down a misbehaving Gabriel, but for now it's still a sight to behold.

In the meantime my boy is out of his bed. And out of MY bed. Unacceptable.

"Ahem." Dean tears his eyes away from the hall and onto me. Judging by his deer-headlights-cliché of a face I must appear more foreboding than I feel. I open my arms to him, watch as his body relaxes while he crosses the hall. I fold him into my arms as I close the door, reveling in the way he calms even further as he takes in the scent of my neck and shoulder. Whatever the shenanigans, of which I just witnessed the tail end, my boy is with me and that's never a bad thing. I guide us to my sofa, still holding him; sit us down and rub his back as he molds into my side.

"I'm fairly certain that the reason you're here and not where I instructed you to stay isn't your fault. Tell me." I'm waiting for what I'm sure will be hilarious and typically Gabriel.

What I receive is a sudden burst of fury and sadness from my boy, who untangles himself and jumps to his socked feet to pour out his rather odd-sounding tale of angst:

"GODDAMN GABE! IT'S BAD ENOUGH YOU SAID I CAN'T GO TO THE MOVIE AND THAT DUMBASS HAS TO TRY AND MAKE ME GO TRYING TO GET ME IN TROUBLE I TOLD HIM I'M TOO SICK AND THEN _SAM_ AND DIRTY CLOTHES AND NASTY-ASS _GOLD_ FUCKING UNDERPANTS ON MY **FACE** AND...AND..." he stops, breathing hard enough that I'm amazed he's not having a coughing fit. 

"...and I really wanna go to the movie Cas, please can't I go?" Barely a whisper. He knows what his body needs, knows full well what I'm going to say. He simply needs me to be...his Castiel.

Very well then. I'll inquire about the gold underpants another time. 

I don't even reply, just reach for his hand. He comes, willingly, sinking back down to the sofa and into my embrace. He burrows into me, a puppy seeking warmth after a storm.

"What did I say before, Punk?" Stroking his hair, feeling the wetness from his eyes (and nose) along my neck. "When you're all better we'll go together, and it will be excellent I'm sure. Tonight you need to rest and recover some more. You've been a very good boy, we're going to have a good night here. I promise." He sighs and nods, shuddering just a bit. That Dean-trum was quite justified, from what I gathered, but it was still exhausting for an already tired body and soul. 

I've been waiting for a time to try...a somewhat different type of caring for my boy. I believe this would be an appropriate evening. I lower my voice, murmuring to him in the soothing way that I know affects him in a certain _way._ I trace his cheek and jawline, feel him shiver and sigh; I feel him growing...smaller, more compliant. More... **mine.**

 "I think tonight my Little Punkin' needs to be especially 'little'. I think he needs some extra-special time just for him, yes?"

Another nod, this one even sweeter and almost...shy. He's not sure precisely what he's getting himself into, but he needs me. He trusts me. 

Good. I lift his chin and wipe away the last of his tears.

"Go over to the bed and lay down. Castiel needs to gather up what we need to make his Little One feel better." I stand and pull him up after me, observing how rounded his shoulders have become, head bowed; my Little Boy is definitely here now. I send him toward my bed with a pat to his bottom, he gets about halfway there when his curiosity gets the better of him.

"Uh...wha' does Cas need...?" I smile indulgently as I make my way to my chest of drawers.

"Oh just a few things, nothing to worry about." He lays himself down on my bed and watches me like a hawk, not that I blame him; he trusts me but he also knows by now when things might get a little...new. Or old, if one chose to look it that way...

I admit that I enjoy the gasp. The widening of those eyes that I know came with the gasp. 

I'm humming as I lay out the new STAR WARS tee-shirt.

And the diaper. With the fresh baby powder to go with it.

I'll allow his mind to wrap around those before I take out the shiny new thermometer. And the nice, old-school jar of Vaseline. For exactly what you think they're for.

I plan to awaken far more than the Force in my little boy this evening. 

 

**TO MOST DEFINITELY BE CONTINUED >;-)**

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, we're going there :)


	12. DayQuil Days and Jedi Knights Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "We're not gonna talk first?!?"
> 
> "No." He's reaching under me to unsnap my jeans, why he doesn't do that first I'll never know and now is _not_ the time to ask him about it. Pulls down my jeans and Boba Fett boxers (fuck off they rock) and I feel him raising the arm with 'Zuki at the end of it...!
> 
> "We ALWAYS talk first Sam!!!"
> 
> "NO. And we've only been doing this a few weeks anyway, we don't HAVE an 'always' yet. We'll talk all you want after we re-establish how I feel about you running from me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took me entirely too long to get the way I wanted it, hope you guys like it, comment as much as you can 'cause I wanna know whatch'yall think!

One day I'll remember that Sam used to run track and has medals and shit.

One day I'll remember the fuckheads who play Hackey Sack right outside the main doors even in the FUCKING SNOW.

One day The Wizard will give me a brain, Dorothy.

Today is not that day.

Sam untangles my sorry ass from the patchouli-scented freakin' MORON I slammed into and helps him up too. He apologizes for both of us to the jackass and his equally jackassy buddy, handing me my hoodie that I shrug on while they shuffle off entirely too cheerfully (Birkenstock sandals and wool socks in the fuggin' snow, man I _hate_  those guys); then there's a CLAMP on my shoulder from behind, nothing but Impending Doom whispered in my ear:

"Public or private; your choice." O fuck me, he's pissed. I knew he would be but as usual my dumb ass just DID things and forgot about later and later is NOW.

Maybe I can at least buy myself some time. The fingers of fear curled up in my gut are strong, I feel like Bilbo fuggin' Baggins trying to stall Smaug:

"The movie starts in like an hour Sam, and we're walkin' down; I know I fucked up I know I did but we should wait--" I hear him moving his other hand...

"Hey Zedd, can you and Harry give Gabe 'n me a ride to the Force in a few? Something's come up and we won't have time to walk it. Cool, thanks; do me a solid, text Garth and let him know we can't do food first but definitely after, okay? You're my hero man, see you out front in like forty minutes!" Hear the phone slip back into his pocket, feel him lean down again:

"Now get this," whispers that chill me more than the wind out here while we both stare straight ahead. "We're going back to the room. You and 'Zuki have an appointment. You even _blink_ funny and 'Zilla's got some time for you too. WALK." He lets my shoulder go; with Sam it's gotta be completely my choice to act right or it doesn't count. I really want to jet, run as fast and hard as I can telling Sam to kiss my pasty ass while I go--!

But I don't. Because reasons.

He'd catch me, as fast (and fucking terrified) as I am he'd catch me. And he gives ZERO FUCKS about what other people think. Neither do I, mostly, but what Sam does to me needs to stay behind closed fucking doors.

And...and I don't wanna be even more of a pain in everybody's ass than I've already been today. I made him mad, I bet Castiel is mad and I _know_  Winchester wants my head on a fuckin' stick, don't blame him. I didn't mean to be...this much of a dick. It just...I wanted...

Sometimes I fucking hate me.

I nod to let Sam know I get it. Follow him back inside, the LAST place I wanna go...

 We get back to the room in complete silence and he holds the door while I scurry under his arm like the guilty rat that I am.

I don't wait to be told what to do; I figured out that this shit goes quicker

(and Sam's nicer to my ass, and get your mind outta the gutter I _know_  you know how I meant that)

if I do what I know he's gonna want. Sigh.

I move the little red footstool from home I use to get stuff off the high shelf when he's not around

(blow me we can't all be giants from fucking Asgard)

and put it in the corner of the room between the bunks and my dresser; sit down on it facing Sam. And wait.

With my mouth shut.

He'll tell me when he wants me.

We have time (DAMMIT stupid friends with cars bein' all accommodating and shit) but not a lot; Sam's not gonna waste any of it. He goes right to his top drawer and takes 'Zuki out, then crosses to his desk and leans. He looks at me for a minute, I can't look back at him. Yes I feel like a total jerkwad for letting ANY of this just happen like I'm some five year old. I told him that once and refused to even sit here.

ONCE.

Hey did you know Sam's hands are so fucking BIG that he can cover almost my entire ass, and that makes it feel like he's smacking the same. fucking. spot. forty. fucking. times?? I KNOW IT NOW... 

Sam's smacking 'Zuki against his leg a little; my mouth is desert dry and my heart's pounding from a lot more than running from him just now. I HATE THAT THING. I hate 'Zilla too but it's different; 'Zilla sucks but it's more like Sam's hand, it's heavier and doesn't fucking STING the way 'Zuki does. 'Zuki is thinner and lighter and you'd think it'd be easier to take but the way it stings is soooo much harder for me to handle...

Oh wait. You dunno about StrapZilla and StrapZuki.

Lucky you. May you never know them as well as I fucking do.

Sam should be the one to talk about the goddamned things but long story short: he decided that sometimes I need more than just his fucking Satan's Brick of a hand when I screw up (I disafuckinGREE by the way) so he went to some Bullshit-Fifty Shades-No-One-Expects-the-Spanish-Inquisition online store and bought himself a pair of Gabe-Destroyers: StrapZilla and StrapZuki. They're named after some Godzilla cartoon from back in the day, apparently, and they SUCK SO HARD. StrapZilla is as long as my fucking forearm and thick black leather with a wooden handle. StrapZuki is the same thing but much smaller, brown leather and thinner like I said; Sam likes to use it right where my ass turns into my legs and it stings so FUCKING much for days when I sit that I'd actually rather he used 'Zilla. Sam knows this, It tends to be obvious from my screaming into the gag (more on THAT shit later) and attempts to levitate off his lap. Which one I get (or fucking BOTH) depends on how much of an assmonkey I've been; if you ask me they should only be used on murderers and whoever canceled Firefly but obviously I don't get a vote.

Meanwhile Sam's crossing over to me; pulls me up off the Naughty Stool (YES he calls it that and YES it makes my face redder than the damn stool or my ass for that matter); puts his foot on the stool and HAULS me up over his knee; my friggin' legs dangle, I hate it like this 'cause my head dangles upside down and I can't clench my ass...!

"We're not gonna talk first?!?"

"No." He's reaching under me to unsnap my jeans, why he doesn't do that first I'll never know and now is _not_ the time to ask him about it. Pulls down my jeans and Boba Fett boxers (fuck off they rock) and I feel him raising the arm with 'Zuki at the end of it...!

"We ALWAYS talk first Sam!!!"

"NO. And we've only been doing this a few weeks anyway, we don't HAVE an 'always' yet. We'll talk all you want after we re-establish how I feel about you running from me."

And that's all the banter I get before he leans over me to turn on the " _Ruin Gabe's Ass With People in the Dorm!_ " playlist. We picked it together (yeah _that_  was a normal conversation),  Loud tunes with guitars and drums and shit that people would think we just liked a lot.

Machinehead comes roaring out while Sam immediately lays into me

**_THWAP_   FUCK**

**_THWAP THWAP_  OWTCH FUCK **

**_THWAP THWAP THWAP_   JESUS I'M SORRY FUCK SAM PLEASE**

Gavin Fucking Rossdale tells us to

**_Breathe in Breathe Out Breathe in Breathe Out BREATHE IN_ **

I'm trying mothuhfuckah, I'm TRYING **OW SHIT OWTCH**

 Sam's whaling on my pathetic ass, I'm doing my goddamn best to be quiet but I'm freakin' _squealing_ like a girl who sat on a bag of lobsters. He goes way beyond the ten he said before, I know it's 'cause I ran from him. I'm clutching at Sam's jeans, for a little balance and yeah, a little comfort 'cause this shit HURTS. They're hiked up just some and I feel myself rubbing my cheek against the cool of his dark leather boot. I never feel so pitiful, so much like Sam's Naughty Little Bitch, as I do when I'm clinging to his leg like this...

He's done. Thank fuck. As soon as the blood stops rushing in my head I'll remember what the hell I did wrong and then NEVER FUCKING DO IT AGAIN.

Sam flips me up and onto my feet; holds me by the arm for a minute, we found out the hard way that I can be a mite dizzy when I first get upright again...the room *does* spin a little for a sec but I'm way too focused on that which was once my ass to care. Hold my hands by my sides, if I rub the sting in my ass Sam will start ALL OVER AGAIN because he is a mean and soulless bastard when he's pissed at me.

I feel him peering at me, making sure I'm ok; at least as ok as I can be given the circumstances. When he's sure he raises my boxers and jeans and pushes me down onto the stool; I know what to do even if I DO NOT want to do it.

Sitting still on this damned thing, feeling like only my ass has the Chicken Pox and won't stop itching. Sam puts 'Zuki away and I know it's time to talk. He turns to me:

"Why, dude? Why the hell would you try and sneak Dean out of here? You knew you'd get caught, how the hell did you think that was gonna end?"

 He won't let me up 'til I answer him, found that out the hard way too.

"I...I dunno, I wasn't thinkin' about that part!" Geezus my ass feels like I'm sitting on actual Evil I gotta stop letting him do this...!

_or you could stop bein' an idiot you did this to yourself be honest you dink_

"Obviously. Seriously though Gabe, you knew he's still sick and EVERYONE would be P.O.'d at you both, especially YOU. He can just see the damn movie with Cas next week--" I feel myself gettin' MAD why doesn't he get it?!?

"Next week won't be Opening Night with all of us we're his friends I couldn't leave him all alone--!!!" I don't care what he does I can't stay on this goddamn stool I jump up and then I'm leaning against the wall. I am *not* gonna get all emotional this is bullshit...

Quiet behind me, then:

 "You didn't want him all by himself." Sam's right behind me, his hand on my shoulder. How a guy so big moves so freakin' _quietly_   I'll never understand. "You hated thinking about him alone and sick and you didn't want to have a good time at the movie without all of us together."

This Sasquatch muthafugga is NOT gonna make me cry. I nod and focus on keeping my shit together gotDAMmit...I'll be alright as long as he doesn't start with the damn Daycare Talk...

"Turn around please, so we can listen to each other's words like good friends do." Ho geezus there he goes...! I turn around but I do NOT look at him before me makes me gaze into his Magic Mirror or some shit. Not gonna cry, not fuckin' doin' it...!

Sam leans down low though, so low that I can't help but see him. "Ah-ha, there he is!" He says with the patented Goofy Sam Grin. Great, instead of cryin' like a bitch he's got me trying not to laugh, I can't keep a straight face when his giant skull is right up in my grill like this and he knows it. I feel the tension that's been gripping me start to loosen the hell up. Sam's good for me that way, gotta give him that.

"You forgot about Castiel, didn't you?" he says all soft. I nod yes, because I totally did. Hell with it, let's try honesty; just got my bare ass beat, not like I have dignity concerns. I turn my head some, run a hand through my hair like I do when I'm frustrated with my own damn self. 

"I'm a dumbass, Sam. It never even entered my stupid head that Dean would hang with Cas and be just fine," I hear myself mumble. "All I thought about was LONELY-ASS FAILCHESTER IN A LONELY-ASS ROOM BEING LONELY while his piece-o' shit alleged friends went to the biggest flick of the year without him. Couldn't let that happen, we couldn't be dicks to him like that..." Sam straightens up and pulls me to him, hugs me with one arm. I let him. Sue me, it feels good. He steps back from me and looks...'understandingly annoyed' is how I'd describe it...

"I get how you felt dude, I had the same things on my mind; none of us liked the idea of leaving Dean tonight, we all know how bad he wanted to go. That doesn't mean it was ok to try and drag him out, you *knew* he's still sick and you knew Castiel had already said 'NO' and with Dean what Cas says goes these days. AND you tried to hide it from me; you tried to hide DEAN from me. Not cool."

He closes the little bit of space between us and holds my chin so I have to look right at him; his eyes make me wanna bolt, seriously, and his voice drops even lower:

"I know you thought once we were all at the movie it would've been too late to send Dean home. Not true, I would've called Cas and he would've brought Dean right back here. And since Dean does NOT like having Cas mad at him, sick or not he would've taken it out on YOU. And I don't think you really want to find out how Castiel would handle someone who could've made Dean's cold even worse, do you." 

That wasn't even a question, not really. And NO, I probably don't need an Angry Castiel to deal with; I mean it's not like he'd...do what Sam does...no way Big Shot Dean Winchester would put up with that...but I don't need some lecture either. I've seen Dean look all red-eyed and miserable when Castiel's been mad at him, and act all fidgety; Cas must make you feel so guilty you can't even sit still.

"I told you, this thing between you and me is only for when you're a pain-in-the-ass. I think this situation totally qualified. Tomorrow you're going to apologize to Dean and to Cas. Fair?"

"Fair. I'm, uh, sorry man." I mean it. This wasn't the lamest thing I've done but it's in the top ten I think...nah, prolly not...man I suck sometimes...

Sam nods and smiles, crosses to the closet and throws my heavier coat at me; it's gotta be nearly time to meet Harry and Zedd outside. As we're heading out he stops me and the look in his eye makes me want to hide under my friggin' bed. Leans down a little so he's right in my face but this time I'm nowhere near laughing.

"The next time you call yourself 'dumbass' or 'stupid' or anything like that, you can sit a seriously red rear-end on the Naughty Stool for a straight hour. You're neither of those and I'm tired of hearing it. I'm not giving a warning so you might want to remember. No more calling my friend Gabriel nasty names, that's not okay." 

The scariest teacher unleashed from Hell's Preschool has spoken.

Shit.  I am in all kinds of trouble.

 

&+&+&+&+&

 

 

One day I'll figure out why I love...all these things I do with Cas.

One day I'll understand how he can get me to do and say and...feel...all of this. Why he makes everything better. 

One day I'll know why I took that left turn at Albuquerque. And ended up Cas' Little Boy.

Today is not that day.

 

“Cas, I don’t think I’m…I don’t know if I can wear—“

I know he’s listening, Cas always listens to me. He’s not stopping though, I’m watching him while he goes around the room doing…I don’t even know. But whatever he’s got planned for me is _going_ to happen, that much I do know.

I like that. Don’t know ‘zactly why, but I like that I can whine all I want and Cas won’t stop things unless I _really_ need him to. So far I’ve never needed him to. He pushes me, further and further; places I didn’t even know existed. And when it’s all over he’s got me in his arms with my mind blown. Every time. Reminds me of that Foo Fighters riff from Everlong:

_Only thing I’ll ever ask of you_

_Gotta promise not to stop when I say when…_

He’d know when to stop and I admit, it’s not when I say ‘when’. Which is why he’s still doin’ his thing, humming to himself while I’m lying on his bed waiting. And no, I’m not totally sure what I’m waiting for. Where would the fun be in that?

Cas comes over to the nightstand and turns his laptop toward me; puts in a DVD. “C’mon little boy, let’s get you ready for bed.” I’m about to protest that I *am* ready, in fact I’ve been in pajamas and a shirt for days now, when Cas pops a new Batman Sassifier (oh cool!) in my mouth and

OMG HE PUT IN THE MUPPET SHOW WITH LUKE SKYWALKER.

I bolt up to kneeling on the bed, my Sass must be going a mile a minute this is freakin’ righteous--!!!

That’s why I barely notice when he takes off my (sweaty and icky and _wrong)_ t-shirt and pajama pants. I know when he lays me back down, and when he brings the bowl of warm water and the washcloth. I’m watching Statler and Waldorf bugging Fozzie Bear in a daze of warm fuzzy awesomeness ‘cause my Cas is washin’ me with the silky blue washcloth he got special jus’ for me. Usin’ my extra-special “just-for Dean an’ Cas” soap, it’s lavender and vanilla and it makes us an’ the whole room smell like Lothlorien. And when I’m clean head to toe (Cas even washed my toes and yeah I squeaked so what) Cas puts the Chewbacca shirt on me.

And… something else. Somethin’…new.

A lot like my reg’lar underwear, but _different._

 Softer. Fatter, sorta. No no, not fatter,  _thicker._ An’ my undies don’t have snaps on the sides. Huh. I run my hand all over from under the blankie Cas just put on me. Really soft, the snaps are cool and plastic or maybe metal…

I know what it is. You know what it is.

I could think about it, maybe even be mad, if I wanted to. I’m a big boy, _really_ big, for this…not-underwear…Cas put on me. I could tell Cas “NO!” if I really, really wanted to.

I don’ wanna.

I should care but I just…don’t. They’re nice and super-soft and I know they make Cas happy, he nuzzled my belly with his chin when he put them on me. I’m so comfy, just gonna lay here and not care. De will care tomorrow. Maybe.

Right now Cas has soup.

My head feels like Little Dean but this is Big Dean’s belly still, is big so that’s a Big Dean-size bowl. Cas is smart!

I sit up in the bed while Alice Cooper is on the Muppets (YAY) and Cas puts a tray on my lap; there’s soup with chicken and noodles, star shapes!

And a cup.

A yellow cup. Gots handles and a white lid.

Is a sippy cup. Gots Elmo on it.

De _Hates_ Elmo. Always looks like if you close your eyes he’s gonna bite you.  

I look at the cup, and at Cas. Cas is looking back at me, waiting I should drink. 

“Want a big boy cup, Cas!” Dunno why but even though everything else I like…everything, even the not-underwears…that cup is all kinds of NOPE. Nuh-uh. Don’ like it. Feels like all my mad for the last WEEK is that stoopid cup. 

Cas has that face where in a minute De might have a bottom that hurts. Hurts a LOT. Uh-oh. His Cas-arms are folded up in front of him.

“There is grape juice in that cup that I do not want spilled in my bed. Use your cup, little boy.”

“No.”

“Little boy—“

“NO!” Don’t care if I getta spankin’ don’t like that CUP--!

This should be the part where Cas takes ‘way the tray and turns me over his knee. That’s what I think is gonna happen..! But Cas, he just sighs and takes away the cup. “Brings back a big-boy cup that I do use with two hands. 

"Now can you be a nice enough boy to have a little Apple Pie ice cream?

YES OH YES I CAN YES but wait...

“…De gets ice cream…?” Cas smiles. “Yes, being a brat about your Elmo cup wasn’t very nice but you’ve still been a pretty good boy. Just a little though, to make your throat feel better after all the coughing you’ve been doing this week.”

De IS a Good Boy. Didn’t even throw the stoopid Bitey Elmo cup to the wall to see the juice run down, just thinked about it. Hee.

After my ice cream is all gone

_good good SO GOOD want more tomorrow_

Cas says he wants to work just a little bit and can I color. YEAH De can color! Cas has the bestest coloring pencils in the un’verse and I only get to have ‘em when I’m a Good Boy…! He brings me all the colors and a FORCE ‘WAKENS colorin’ book he gotted  from the store. Jus’ for me.

I loves my Cas’iel. Honest I mean it.

Cas does his Work on his desk, I color Rey an’ Finn an’ Poe an’ watch a movie Cas puts in. Thought he’d show me STAR WARS but he put in a movie De never saw from when Cas was a little boy called “THE ICE PIRATES” it’s awesome!

Cas is all done, has on his pajama pants an’ t-shirt an’ he says it’s gettin’ late for little boys still sick. Wanna say “no”, but Cas is right, I haz a sleepy. Cas takes away the colors and the tray and I think we’re gonna go ‘sleep, but Cas says something we gotta do first.

Cas turns off all the light ‘cept for a small one by the bed, the room is even more cozy. Sits up with his back at the top of the bed. Tells me to lay across his lap. WHAT, Nuh-uh…! Cas sees my scaredy-face and laughs, his low laugh that makes me warm and glowy inside:

“Settle down Punk, you’re not getting a spanking. This will be nice, I promise.” 

Trust Cas. I lay myself down ‘cross his lap, he puts a pillow under my head and hands me Clarence Angel Bear, so nice…

 _Why_ is Cas loosing the snaps on the diap—uh, the not-underwears??

“Cas…?”

He shushes me while he’s taking stuff outta the night table drawer, De can’t see…

“You’ve been a little warm all evening, Punkin’. I’m going to take your temperature to make sure it’s not too high.”

Oh, is that all, that’s…WAIT WHAT NOPE NOPE NOPE

I start off Cas’ lap but he gots the back of my t-shirt and _OWIE OWIE OH_ smacks on the back of De’s legs…!

“Be STILL, little boy. This’ll only take a minute. Unless it takes longer because Castiel had to give you a sore bottom first. Now can you be my good boy, or…?” I melt like ice cream over his lap, don’t wanna spankin’ but don’t want…!

Cas is rubbing my back and my bottom, can never stay upset when he does that…I nod yes. I can be a good boy for Cas. Even for…this…

“I know you’re apprehensive, this is new for us. Close your eyes and breathe, and listen to Cas. It’s going to be ok.”

I do. I close my eyes and just…listen to Cas. He’s singing one of our “Dean is Little” nightsongs, I feel the Scary leaving my tummy and my bones:

 

_Oh, lil' sleepy boy, do you know what time it is,_

_Well the hour of your bedtime's long been past..._

_An' though I know you're fightin' it_

_I can tell when you rub your eyes that you're fadin' fast_

_Mmmm fadin' fast..._

 

Circles and more circles Cas is rubbin' rubbin' rubbin my back and my bottom feels soooo good, I don’t even care (well, not much) when I feel the the cool slippy *thing* inside my bottom…

 

_Won't you run come see Saint Judy's Comet_

_Roll across the skies_

_And leave a spray of diamonds_

_In its wake_

_I long to see St.Judy's Comet_

_Sparkle in your eyes_

_When you awake_

“Just under 101°”, hear Cas say to himself. “ Let’s bring that down so he can sleep…”

Cas opens…sumthin’…and then I has a WHOA when a _really_ slippy-slidey thing is in my bottom--!

“Cas??” He pats my back, I feel the smile on him. “No worries Punkin’, that was medicine to bring down your fever; it’ll work faster this way, and since you were already here…”

Already here. Hmmph.

But now he’s rubbing lotion allll over my bottom; the kind that warms a lil’ bit. It feels like…like when he rubs my bottom after a spankin’, ‘cept I didn’t have to get the spankin’ for the nice an’ warm. Loves Cas.

Sleepy, so so sleepy.

 

_Little boy_

_Won't you lay your body down_

_Little boy_

_Won't you close your weary eyes_

_Ain't nothing flashing hut the fireflies_

_& +&+&+&+&_

 

Slowly, so slowly, I slide my boy from my lap, turn him just enough to pull the blankets over us both. Drop a kiss onto his cheek. Then another and another. Force myself to stop and let him be; it's not like I'll ever get enough. He sighs around his pacifier, sleeping as deeply as I knew he would. My sweet, weary little man with the cough and stuffy nose. By Monday he'll be back to his usual self, strutting around campus and Bunker Hall like he owns it all. If you asked around many would say he does.

Tonight though...my precious, perfect boy is all mine. He doesn't have to be Big Bad Dean Winchester, Cocky Lord of all he surveys.

He just has to rest. With his bear and his Batman Sassifier. And his Castiel wrapped around him and holding tight.

Warm. And safe.

And mine. All mine.

My last thought as I drift away is that I'm never, ever, letting go. 

   _& +&+&+&+&_

 

 "For cryin' out loud Gabe, will you set STILL!" Garth hisses at me like some big-haired angry mom in church. I hiss right back at him to "fuck OFF, these seats suck!" because I can't just tell him that I'm fucking _trying_. Trying to get lost in the previews (of which there are hundreds it feels like) and forget that an hour ago I was bare-assed over my roomie's knee gettin' the bejeezus beaten outta me

_C'mon now dickhead Sam didn't beat you he SPANKED you like the non-thinking asshole you were today at least tell the truth in your own head_

and now sitting still on my tenderized ass is damn near impossible. I hafta keep shifting around because this must be what sitting on a radioactive cactus feels like and I don't blame Garth for being annoyed with my bullshit. I don't mean to be a jerk but I hate this seat, I hate that I'm such a dickwad I have to have a KEEPER, apparently, and while I don't hate Garth I might just have to kill him on general principle if he keeps giving me shit because my Mordor-level burning ass won't let me sit here like a normal human being at the movies. And just when I think I can't take it one more minute:

"I'm getting a weird glare over here, switch with me Gabe." That's ridciulous, Sam's the only one who can _always_ see the movie. Whatever, I get up to switch with him.

 Sam's giant fluffy Samsquatch  goosedown coat is bunched up on his seat. Like a cushion. Like an anti-ass-on-fire cushion. 

I lower myself into the seat just when the movie's finally starting. It's not 100 percent, I am still unusually yet totally aware of my own ass. But I can sit still enough that the guy on the other side of me probably won't punch me. At least not for fucking wiggling. I should say...something...to Sam. He's being nice to me when I damn sure don't deserve it. 

"Sam, I--" He shushes me...!

"Movie's starting Gabe, shut the hell up. Here, plug your noise." Eyes still on the screen, he closes a Tootsie Pop into my hand. Squeezes before he lets go, it's gentle. No one looking would even know.

I know.

I lean toward him just enough that my head just barely touches his shoulder. You'd have to be looking crazy-hard to know.

He knows.

He's still a giant headed mean dill-hole.

Thank you, Sam. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Saint Judy's Comet, Paul SImon:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kTxCqbfreTA
> 
> The wondrously gorgeous Kenny Loggins version:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2m2mRfVsmUw
> 
> I love both beyond what I can tell you (we play both a LOT for naptime in the daycare biz) 
> 
> Machinehead, Bush:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5WPbqYoz9HA
> 
> I can conquer the world, or at least clean the hell outta my kitchen, when this is playing ;-)
> 
> The GODZILLA cartoon from back in the day that 'Zilla and 'Zuki were named for: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SrQjr6KAJvU
> 
> For those wondering: StrapZilla and StrapZuki are indeed real, and 'Zilla is actually WAY worse than I described here, 'She' was used in a prison in Alabama back in the 1930's; friends of mine in the local BDSM community got ahold of her and she was for very, VERY special occasions >:-)


	13. Saturday's Child

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Forget it Sam, this is some TOTALLY UNNECESSARY BULLSHIT and I dunno what kinda power trip you're ON but--!!!"
> 
> Hmm, His rant's suddenly stopped. 
> 
> Must be because I just turned on our playlist. Nice and loud. 
> 
> And now I'm shaking out 'Zilla, letting her uncurl in all her thick, shiny, long glory. Doubling her up, I love the sound she makes against the palm of my hand...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, thank you all for the ridiculously kind comments and kudos! 
> 
> WARNING: our Dean is particularly 'little' in the very first part of this chapter, nothing too outrageous but may not be to everyone's taste ;)

"Cas?"

I hear the sleepy, almost mournful and very much 'little' voice from the bed. It's early, the sun's barely up; I was about to go for a quick run, thinking my little one would be down for the count for several more hours. He's still mostly asleep, calling for me around his pacifier; it would take two of him to be any more adorable. Leaving the sofa where I was lacing up my runners I slide back under the blankets behind him, wrapping myself around my warm bundle of boy.

"You should be sleeping, Punkin'," I whisper, reveling in the scents of lavender and vanilla. He finds my arm around his middle and rubs his thumb up and down my sleeve, another small way I know he's still my 'Little' Dean. "Close your eyes, I'm going to go running but by the time you wake up for good I'll be back again." I feel him stiffen a bit as he shakes his head 'NO', trying to wake enough that maybe I won't go. But he's just. Too. Tired. We've been here before, I know what to do. I find the hem of his t-shirt, placing my fingers on his bare, ever-so-slightly chubby belly.

"I think Dean needs the Sleepy Spiders to come out and play, do you?" A bit of a gasp and a flurry of head-shakes, yet he makes no attempt at getting away; I can't help the grin that I know would look somewhat evil if the room wasn't nearly dark...

Sliding my fingers lightly all over his belly and sides, tickling just enough to set him laughing gently; squirming yet sinking deeper into me; in this headspace, nothing sends him off to sleep as easily as when the 'spiders' show him the way. I trace his name along his chest, draw shapes and patterns on his back before gliding around to his ultra-sensitive sides and waist; one good round of more intense tickles before returning to the lighter style and he'll giggle himself back into the deep slumber I know he needs. I hug him to me that much tighter; he knows what's coming, sleepy sniggering (still around his Sassifier, a level of precious I cannot describe properly) as he weakly protests:

"Nooo Cassh, no 'pider bitesh!"

"But the spiders are hungry after all that work, "I growl, "Too late to stop them now..." He's already laughing harder and deeper as my thumb and forefinger pincer all over his belly and hips while he bats at me; I secure both his hands with the arm that's around his waist and go for the one deadly spot between two of his ribs, causing desperately silent laughter with delicious struggles and--

\--suddenly he's very, very still. This is new. Curious, I stop tickling and listen, feeling and hearing his breathing return to normal and his shudders slow. He whispers:

"Um, Cas...De...De had to..."

Oh. _Oh._

My goodness. My little one has embraced being my Baby Boy even more thoroughly than I'd anticipated....intriguing...!

I feel him turning his head into the pillow, he's embarrassed, poor baby...I stroke the back of his head, dropping a kiss on his neck where it meets his shoulder. "That's alright Buzzy Bee, tickles do that sometimes; that's what this," I pat his still-padded bottom, "is made for. Just be my good boy and let me take care of you." With a kiss (and another little tweak to that one spot because that giggle is better than sunshine) I head towards the bathroom. Return with a warm washcloth and towel. Before he knows it I've pulled down the blankets and taken care of things, nuzzling his sweet belly and leaving him clean and dry. And bare from the waist down. Replace the blankets and take him into my arms again, 'spiders' running along the small of his back. He's _purring_ with pleasure. It's utterly enchanting, would that I could keep him this way...

"Back to sleep with you, little one. When you're awake again you can decide what you want to wear; some things are in your drawer and some...are in mine. That will tell me if my little boy or my Big Boy is with me." He nods sleepily and gives me a Sassy Kiss, as he calls kisses with his pacifier still in; within moments he's out like a light. I tuck him in and head off, mildly wondering which of my boys I'll find when I return. 

 

 &+&+&+&+&

 

 

'You're shittin' me. No WAY you're serious, you're SHITTIN' me..." 

"I shit you not. One hundred and then you're done."

Gabe's look of total disbelief is satisfyingly perfect. I wanted to shock him, and it looks like I have. Not an easy feat with the Goblin of Bunker Hall, so yes I'm enjoying it. Meanwhile he's just _staring_ at the pen and paper on his desk, like they'll evaporate or burst into flames if he keeps at it.

I know he thought he was done with any consequences for yesterday. Guess again. 

"Dude SERIOUSLY, I know I fucked up royally but you already--that was enough gotdammit!!"  He's glaring at me, furious; I know he's feeling..betrayed. As far as he's concerned he's paid his dues and today's a new day. I get that, I really do. I just disagree. I know Gabe, his rear-end is probably still a little sore but already halfway forgotten. He's still not where he needs to be in his head, and if I let him off now...ugh, who _knows_ what deviltry he'll get himself (and possibly ME) into. This is for his own good and my own sanity.

I haul myself from sitting on my bunk and take my full height over to stand right in front of him, arms folded and my best "Patient to a Point Bitchface" on display. 

"We agreed that I'm in charge when you act a fool. I say you need to do this last thing to reinforce why yesterday wasn't cool and nothing like it is ever happenin' again. Like I said, do this and you're done." I can *feel* his frustration, he wants to fight me on this so hard but he knows I'm right. And we both know he's still feeling guilty. Apologizing to Dean and to Castiel later will help a lot, but he still needs to feel like he's really, thoroughly paid for his crimes.

He will after this. 

Or he will after picking up the paper he just knocked off the desk and the pen he just threw--

"Forget it Sam, this is some TOTALLY UNNECESSARY BULLSHIT and I dunno what kinda power trip you're ON but--!!!"

Hmm, his rant's suddenly stopped. 

Must be because I just turned on our playlist. Nice and loud. 

And now I'm shaking out 'Zilla, letting her uncurl in all her thick, shiny, long glory. Double her up, I love the sound she makes against the palm of my hand.

One day I'll tell him just how long I've actually had 'Zilla and her little sister 'Zuki. I know he thinks they're new, and since he was the first one I used them on he's right in a way...but that's a story for another day. Right now...

Huh. Right now Gabe is all of a sudden _very_ busy writing. All the paper is back on the desk and the pen is going a mile a minute. Well whadaya know. 

I turn off "BODIES", but instead of putting 'Zilla back in the drawer I decide to hang her on the back of my desk chair. Where Gabe can see while he's writing. And he _is_ writing. And will continue to write 

**_"I WILL NOT HIDE DEAN OR ANYONE ELSE IN MY FILTHY LAUNDRY BECAUSE IT IS WEIRD AND WRONG."_ **

about ninety-six more times now. 

I settle back onto my bunk with my book for English Lit. It's gonna be a nice, quiet, productive afternoon. 

 

** &+&+&+&+&**

 

 

 I do NOT feel like doing the rest of this homework. At all. I woke up, showered, threw on some pajama pants and a SuperGrover T-shirt and felt like...Big Me. I think.

Honestly? Sometimes I really feel kind of in the middle. Like now. 

I want Cas to come and lay down with me. And watch the Thundercats vids I found on YouTube. Shut up, you know you had the hots for Panthro just like the rest of us; his voice could melt a whole freakin'  Ben and Jerry's--and now I want Phish Food dammit...!

"Cas, can we go--"

"No, we can't."

"Aw! You don't even know what I was gonna ask!"

"Were you going to ask if we can stay right here and get our work done while you rest? Because otherwise it's safe to say that my answer stands." He hasn't even looked up from his drawing table but the Cas Smirk is ghosting around, riling me up as usual. I'm Big Dean, I swear I am, but when I'm this...sick? Tired? I don't even know what I am right now besides cranky as fuck. I want Cas and I want Ben and Jerry's and I want OUT of this bed for awhile, just awhile...

"Can I at least come see whatcha workin' on?" The room's not all that big but the way he's turned his drawing desk I can't see what he's doing.

"Not right now Punk," he says kind of absently while he's erasing...something. "Finish your reading and I'll show you in a little bit." No idea why that fires me up but **ARGH DEAN SMASH**

"Dammit I wanna get UP Cas, I've been in bed for like THREE YEARS it feels like!!!" _And I'm almost nineteen and I can get up if I damn well feel like it yeah right I double-dog dare ya to tell him that uh-huh that's what I thought_

Cas looks at me, this _look_ he has where I honestly don't know if he's thinking "hug the cranky boy" or "give the cranky boy something to _really_ be cranky about." I kinda hold my breath 'til he shows me which one, prepared to backpeddle and see how far Cute Dean Face would get me; yeah I know, not very far but I'd have to try...he's not getting up though, that's a good sign right...?

"I know you're getting restless. Stay where you are. Finish your reading while I get done over here, or at least to a point where I can stop for a time. Then we'll go for a drive and pick up some dinner. Good?"

"Yeah good, thanks Cas!" He loves me, sore ass avoided! Now to plan my strategy to get him to let me have Biggersons; he hates that place, says it gives him a bad feeling. I love it, the burgers are *amazing*; seriously they must be magic because they make me sooo relaxed and chill...I settle back into my theatre history textbook. Great, now everybody's name is friggin' David.

 

I'm done all my homework and getting *cranky* again.

Cas is still drawing away.  That shouldn't annoy me but I wanna throw a paper airplane at him or something. Grr.

Meanwhile my phone is burbling: Ah. Texting means the gremlins in your life can apologize without getting within choking distance: 

 

**CHESTY, WHEN DOES A SCARECROW WIN AN AWARD?**

 

_**Bite me Jokey Smurf I'm mad at you** _

 

 **WHEN CHESTY???** UGH Dammit if I don't...he won't stop--UGH

 

 _**FINE YOU LITTLE WOMBAT** _ _**WHEN?** _

 

 **WHEN HE'S OUTSTANDING IN HIS FIELD!!!** Geezus. Just...wow.

 

_**OMFG GABE**   **COME TO CAS' ROOM SO I CAN PUNCH YOU**_

 

Radio silence for a good minute, then

 

**I'm sorry Dean. Epically, bullshit-free sorry :(**

 

Sigh. I swear he's like the pain-in-the-ass little brother I never had.

 

 _ **I know. It's all good.**  _ **_Jackhole._ **

 

**Bring you something back from Abaddon's?**

 

Abaddon's is a ridiculously awesome bookstore/candy shop in town. Turns out my friendship can be bought!

 

_**Sure, surprise me. Better be good.** _

 

Dunno what Sam said to the little nimrod, but apparently it worked.  The world is safe...for now...

 

 

I can not stay In this stupid bed. I swear my legs are curling up like the witch that had the house dropped on her. Cas is rummaging through his Big Bag of Art Stuff on the floor, he won't even notice if I come take a peek real quick--

(This is what, chapter thirteen? You KNOW this won't end well, get your popcorn and OH SHIT face ready)

No I didn't notice the mug of coffee Cas has on the side of the desk.

No I didn't mean to trip on the little trashcan that's ALWAYS on the other side of the room AND BUMP THE DAMN DESK--!!! The splash makes a pretty cool design though...funny the things you notice right before you die...

"Oh _CRAP_ , I'm sorry Cas I didn't mean for--!" I should go find paper towels or something but I can't move 'cause Cas is up and has me by the freakin' EARLOBE FUCK ME OUCH.

You know how Ricky looks at Lucy when she's REALLY made him mad? Yeah that's what's happening all up on Cas' face. I'm memorizing it since it's gonna be the last thing I ever see...

"I gave you _one_ job, little boy. Stay. In. Bed. **OVER THERE.** " Anybody ever use your ear to turn your head to see something? SUCKS don't it??

"OW CAS, please I'm so sorry I'll help you fix it!" His lips have completely disappeared like Bert when he's sick of Ernie's shit, I'm screwed...!

"I'm about to fix something, no worries." He leads me by my poor defenseless totally-gonna-be-longer-than-the-other-one- ear back to the bed and hauls me over his knee with my chest up on the mattress. Yanks down my pajama pants and

 **"OW OWTCH OH OW**   Please Cas please I'm soorrreeeee PLEASE"

 **"OWOWOWOWOWIIEEE"** _five on each thigh ow nonono geez please don't I can't take that plea--!_ And just like that I start sniffling, I shouldn't be yet but--

Cas hears me kinda break down. He stops spanking, now he's rubbing circles on my back; knowing good and well that he hasn't spanked me hard nor long enough for me to be a mess already...

Pulls my 'jama pants all the way off and helps me so I'm totally up on the bed. Holding me from behind, stroking my hair while we lay there. I know what he's gonna ask me, his voice is warm but still stern (and yes I like it):

"You've had much harder times over my knee, little boy, without even one tear. What do you need to tell me, hmmm?" Sigh. I don't want to say it, I feel like...like it's silly...

Cas is waiting. Fine, I always end up coming out with whatever anyways.

"I...it really messes with my head when you...ugh, my thighs make it feel like you're really,  _really_ mad at me, okay? Like I was...y'know... _naughty_. Makes me more upset at myself for making you that mad." For some reason I HATE admitting that, it makes me feel weak or something...

Cas pulls me even closer. "Thank you for telling me that. I never intended it that way, but now that I know I can be more judicious in when and how much I spank you there." He kisses the back of my neck and squeezes me; I'm a little bigger than Cas but it's never felt like it and I don't think it ever will. To answer Gabe's question: Cas is most definitely the Big Spoon.

"Are you...are you really mad at me now?" It doesn't feel like it but I gotta ask. Cas sighs, one hand goes to my bare backside and rubs.

"No, not 'really'. You didn't mean for that to happen and you didn't ruin anything I can't re-do." I feel myself relax more, I'd have freaked if I'd messed up something crazy-important--!

"...it wouldn't have happened at all if you'd done as you were told, though. Which is why you get to stay in this evening instead of taking a ride with me." Aw--! Not like I expected otherwise but still DAMMIT. I try not to start sulking, I have NO right to be mad about that.

I'm sulking. I'm human, judge not lest ye be punched. 

Cas nudges me and helps me get back under the covers. Pops in my new Batman sassi, and hands me my bear. Puts another DVD on the laptop...

 

I wake up kinda suddenly, didn't even know I'd fallen asleep...! I realize I really am still kinda sick, a spanking doesn't wipe me out like this...

It's a little darker out and Cas is gone. I trudge over to the door and look up and down the hall, no Cas. On my way back to bed I see a note on the table:

 

_**Returning soon with dinner. BE GOOD.** _

_**-C-** _

 

Alrighty then. I restart the DVD that Cas put in before, I was out before I even saw it.

The last thing I remember before I fall asleep again is Spiderman harrassing J. Arthur Crank on old school ELECTRIC COMPANY. Cas is the best. 

 

 &+&+&+&+&

 

 

 

 Driving downhlll from campus; listening to _Hey Jude_ and thinking of stopping at Ben and Jerry's for the red-bottomed boy currently pouting (and hopefully sleeping) in my bed. I shouldn't, it would only undermine the lesson that I mean what I say. He was naughty and didn't listen and...and of course I'm going to bring him what he asked for, he's got me wrapped around his spoiled-brat fingers and we both know it. I'm musing on what flavor I'd like for myself (I'm partial to Americone Dream and not just because I love Stephen Colbert) when my eye catches something--no, someone--familiar. Gabriel, at least I believe it to be Gabriel, is leaning against a tree and apparently talking into his phone. As I get closer it is indeed Gabriel; he's apparently on his way down the hill to town, I'll ask if he'd like a ride the rest of the way.

He doesn't notice me as I pull over and park near him; I'm about to honk my horn when I see his face for a moment, I'm close enough now.

Gabriel is crying. Silently, it seems. He turns away again, still on his phone.

I leave my car and approach him, slowly so I don't startle him, and as I'm getting nearer I can hear his end of the conversation:

" _Plenty of people make good money doing stand-up, Dad!"_

_"You don't have to believe it, I do--"_

_"I AM doing what I said! I'm in school and my grades are good and I--that IS what I said, get my Bachelor's and then I'm gonna--"_

_"Dad...DAD...I'm_ not _Michael Dad, that's great for him but I don't have to--I don't care what he's--"_

_"DAD STOP, I know what I want and---well I DO think I'm funny and I'm gonna get better--"_

_fine Dad, I--okay Dad I gotta go--well I'm sorry you don't. Bye, say hi to Mom --"_

Apparently that was the end of that.

He looks at the phone for a moment. giving a shuddery sigh before slipping it into his pocket; his head hanging a bit as he wipes his eyes with his sleeve. I give him a second before making my presence known:

"...Gabriel?" He jumps just a bit, quickly wiping his face (uck, he'll need to wash that jacket) before turning to me. "Castiel! What are you--I was just--Garth's waiting for me at Abaddon's--" he's obviously trying to hide being not only overwrought from that conversation but nervous, wondering if I'm upset with him about his shenanigans with my boy.

And what I may have overheard just now.

I approach, place a hand on his shoulder with a smile. "I'm just on my way down myself, like a lift?" My smile and manner go a long way at relieving his worry, the apprehension leaves his eyes for the most part. He did deserve a scolding from me...but I'd be quite surprised if Sam hasn't dealt with yesterday's antics. In...some way or other. And with what I just heard...our Gabriel needs support and friendship far more than a lecture. I recall meeting Gabriel's father...Zachariah, I believe...and not really caring for the overblown pomposity of the man. That notion has most definitely been confirmed.

"Thanks Cas, but I think I'll keep walkin'; I kinda want the time to myself. Seriously thank you though, and, um...sorry about--" I put a hand up, stopping him short.

"No worries, no harm was done. Come by later and tell us about the movie as much as you can without spoilers, deal?" He nods and brightens a bit, his reddened eyes somehow sadder to me coupled with such a sweet grin in place of his usual smirk of mischief. This side of Gabriel is so...I find myself wanting to take him back to my room, tuck him in next to his friend Dean with bowls of ice cream and keep them both safe. From the world and from themselves.

For now I settle for brushing a stray blonde lock from his forehead. "Go and meet Garth then. And Gabriel? You know my door is always open, yes?"  

He freezes a bit, realizing that I must have heard...something. I watch a sea of emotion quickly swim around his eyes as they meet mine. Then he just nods, sadly and shyly, but the small smile is still there as he heads off toward town.

Back in my car, honking and waving as I pass him, I decide that while I won't fully betray his confidence I will let someone know that he may need...a bit of understanding and more patience than we knew.

Sam and I need to chat a bit.

  &+&+&+&+&

 

 Bored. All of the main Crew members are otherwise engaged.

No Gabe; he did his lines, then threw them at my face with a "Here you fuckin' DICKMOOSE!!!" and fled the room before I could catch his snarky ass...I'm proud of him, he did all one hundred with nearly no complaint. I think he knew, like I did...he needed to do it. Now he'll feel better, and when he feels better there's less chance of an ant farm being broken in my sock drawer or some other insane Gabe-ness.

No Garth, he's with Gabe in town. and Dean's still down with Castiel. I can't study anymore, my eyes are done with reading for the time being...I flip through Netflix awhile and find a cool-looking documentary on Bob Seger. Dean damn-near worships that guy's music, he can work it into *any* conversation; hell he even got me into it, I downloaded the Greatest Hits and I find myself playing "Katmandu" all the time...I decide to head over to Cas' room and see if he and Dean feel like watching this with me, I meant to bring Dean my copy of the latest WALKING DEAD book anyways. Maybe order pizza or something for the three of us if Dean's still not up for going out...

Knock on the door. Huh, no answer but the door slips open a little. Poke my head in, it's dark except for a light over Cas' drawing desk and a little from the windows. No sign of Cas but I can see Dean's hair popping out from under the blanket; good he's asleep, I bet he still needs the rest. I'll just put the comic on the nightstand and

 

His back is to me but I can see him just fine.

 

Dean has a Batman pacifier in his mouth. I can see it really well against the white teddy bear he's holding. No, _snuggling._ That's what that is.

He's.... _beautiful._

I've seen him sleeping before, plenty of times. But he's never looked so peaceful. So...I should be freaked out or whatever but jesus I want to sit next to the bed and just watch over him. Protect him. From what I don't even know, I just...I just want... I have to brush my finger against his cheek. Just to touch him. I realize too late that I could've woken him up but luckily he just burrows deeper into the bear (aw!), the pacifier moving just that much faster for a minute (AW!!!) before he settles back into his rhythm. I have to fight the impulse to kiss that cheek. Hell, to climb in behind him and hold him--! I swear he looks that sweet, that...inviting.

Instead I back away, slowly, as silent as I possibly can; seriously I'm barely even breathing. I don't want to wake him, I know I'm not supposed to be here, not supposed to see this

_amazing angelic innocent_

side of Dean. It's not for my eyes.

As much as I wish it was. This is for Castiel though, not for me.

I should have reached the door by now; still gazing at 

_Sweet Little Boy_

Dean, I feel for the doorknob behind me.

Instead I feel...cloth.

Trenchcoat cloth. _**OH GOD--!!!!**_

I actually gulp the way people do on tv when they're busted as I turn to face Castiel. He's standing right behind me with bags from Biggersons and Ben and Jerry's. And a look that I can't figure out, but it's not angry.

Warm, amused even...?

He cruises past me. Quietly puts the bags in the fridge, then crosses over to the bed. Adjusts the blanket over Dean, gives the quick kiss I wanted to

_my kiss mine I want it MINE_

before coming back to where I'm still standing. Like a voyeuristic idiot...! I should have left them alone, but I...I...

Cas reaches up to place a hand on my shoulder. His eyes are still amused. And very kind.

'C'mon:" he says quietly. Let's you and I find coffee and a quiet place. We need to talk."

I nod, still not quite able to speak. I can think though, and oh yes we need to talk.

What I just saw, what I'm seeing...Cas MUST know the ways of the Force.

Fine. I'm ready.

Teach me, Obi-Wan.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spidey and J. Arthur Crank for my Younglings: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=11Vf6BdQ6Ic


	14. Little Big Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Did you just tell me "No"??"  
> "NO-Wait I didn't meanAAHH CAS N-OUCH!!!!" A spoon, now warm from its nice and cozy place between his thighs, applied with consistency to an already-sensitive backside. 
> 
> Legs flailing as he tries, so very hard, to behave for me; to be my good boy. I'll reward all of this good behavior momentarily...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big huge I LOVE YOU to all you guys, for the comments and kudos and bookmarks and emails and everything else that shows love for our Boys from the Bunker! ♥
> 
> FYI, this is the final chapter that occurs *before* chapter eight's Christmas episode, after this we're back on track; hope you like it!

"I believe that coffee is more than sufficiently stirred, Sam." He startles a bit as his attention focuses on me, instead of wherever it's been for the last several minutes. I know he wants to talk, _needs_ to have context and understanding added to what he witnessed--no, WHO he witnessed--sleeping in my bed. Or is it whom...? And now I'm getting distracted, ha; it's been that kind of day to say the least. 

"'Sorry Cas, I just--he's so freakin' cute!--I don't even know what to--" He's floundering, poor boy, this is definitely a new situation for him; he doesn't even know what he _can_ ask, much less if it's his right to do so. I realize I'll need to lead the conversation even more than I'd thought, at least to begin:

"I assume you'd like to know about the nature of my relationship with Dean, yes? Especially given the way you observed him just now?" Sam nods gratefully, taking a sip from his thoroughly-stirred coffee and still not looking in my direction; his gaze boring through my windshield nearly unblinking. At first glance one would think he was being shy, perhaps even embarrassed; but I don't believe so.

Sam is thinking. Quite hard in fact. Just the way I'd have done at his age. The way I *did* at his age. I see more of myself in Sam than I'd have ever guessed...all the more reason we need to have this discussion and likely many more. I sip my own brew before getting down to the matter at hand:

"As much as Dean cares for Garth and for Gabriel--and I know that Dean _does_ care for our Gabriel a great deal no matter how much Gabriel exasperates him --you are his best and most trusted friend. That being the case, I'm sure that he'll come to you and discuss his...interests and inclinations...when and if he's ready. It's not my place to share everything, much of our relationship is for Dean to tell and I'll not break his confidence." Sam nods, in both understanding and, I believe, respect for my discretion. "I *will* say that yes, there is more than one aspect to his personality that I love to nurture. As for the rest of our relationship: I don't force him to do anything that he doesn't want to; Dean very much enjoys our way, and benefits from our activities and from my guidance. Even when he may not *enjoy* the way we handle certain situations," I say with a small smile, musing fleetingly on a six-foot-two naughty boy pouting in my corner, "I would conclude that he's thriving and content under my care.  Would you agree?" Sam does look at me at this point, nodding rapidly.

"That's the thing, Cas; that was ADORABLE and he looked so friggin' relaxed...! The change in Dean since he's been with you is *crazy*, he's not a _different_ person, he's like...like a less ridiculous version of the Fonzie-Van WIlder-wannabe I first met!" I have to chuckle at that, the image pretty spot-on; Mr. Winchester strutting around campus and Bunker Hall like the King of All He Surveyed, it was amusing but equally irritating to those precious few of us with no inclination toward falling at his Godly feet. That insufferable attitude is what drew me to him in the first place; I saw beneath the layers of arrogance to the Beautiful Brat in need of love. And guidance. And spanking. Repeatedly for reasons. I'm getting distracted again.

I actually shake my head a bit, to clear it of the glorious images of those bubbles quivering red and repentant over my knee ( _tonight, definitely tonight little boy_ ) while Sam continues. "Does Dean...did he ask you to...how did you know he'd like being 'that way' for you?" Good, to the meat of the discussion:

"I simply had a feeling, based on what I knew of him and frankly what I enjoy. We 'clicked', shall we say, very quickly and in so many ways that I doubted we wouldn't 'click' in this way as well. We have trust in one another; he trusts me not to truly force him into anything that goes against who he really is, and I trust him to tell me if anything I ask of him honestly goes against his nature, if something isn't what he wants. What he  _needs_." Sam takes this in while I have another sip of coffee. He takes a breath and launches in: 

"Cas, how did you first know that you were--that you liked being what you are with Dean? This can't be your first time ever, y'know...being in control, I guess?" I'm proud of Sam, he's asking the right questions and this can't be easy for him. I smile, giving his knee a pat as a flood of memories jumble for status.

"I knew when I was no older than five or six years old that I preferred being in control, as you say. It's just who I am, I find myself being a dominant presence, if not _the_ dominant presence, in just about every situation or relationship that I find myself in. Some would call me an 'Alpha Male'; I've occasionally distanced myself from that term because it often has negative connotations, but I can't say it's incorrect when used in it's more positive light."

"Did you, like, teach yourself how to be dominant with other people, or did you, I dunno, read about it or something...?"

"When I was in my teens and realized that I wasn't just a control freak, like my girlfriends and boyfriends always called me," Sam laughs ruefully at that, obviously it's a familiar situation to him, "I started looking into it. I found books and articles online about who I was and that I most certainly wasn't the only one, which was quite comforting." Sam is nodding again, definitely a shared experience. Some time I'll tell him all about my time at Al's Pizza, and my boss and what I learned from him before he...before I could no longer trust him. But that story is for another time.

"I'm...I'm pretty sure I'm dominant too. Alpha, maybe even...? It used to bother me, I always felt like a big bully or something. I used to be all confused, because I'm not some loud angry dude and I HATE when anybody like that pushes people around. But at the same time I like...I just like taking care of people when it feels like they need me to...with goofy guys like Gabe I feel the most like things are 'right' when I'm calling the shots. I feel weird about it, the 'bully' thing again, but there you go." He lets out a breath so deep and cleansing that I know I'm the first person he's shared this with, at least offline... 

"You are most definitely _not_ a bully, Sam. I've observed you with your friends and family, I've even seen you at your preschool briefly when I gave you a ride that one afternoon; you're wonderful with those around you. Frankly the only time I've known you to behave in a remotely controlling manner is when the situation _desperately_ called for it." I say this pointedly. He knows exactly to what...to whom...I'm referring.

_(Or is it who? I really must look that up later)_

Sam turns to the passenger window, blushing just a bit. Hmm. Interesting.

"You mean Gabe." He sighs, seeming as though the light of his life and the weight of the world are both upon him.  

"I mean whatever you care to discuss, Sam. What's said in this car *stays* in this car." His shoulders relax a little. He can talk about this. I'm honored by his trust. And now the words pour out like water barely held In check by the weakest of dams for a very long time:

"Gabe...I dunno Cas, I never meant to start whatever the hell we're doing but he drives me crazy with his...ugh, he's insane sometimes, you were there for the Clown Crap! I've always kinda known that I'd have to be, like, in _charge_ when I found the right person for me, like you said it's who I am or something. But Gabe and I aren't boyfriends! We're just...it's like he _needs_ me, y'know? Like if I don't deal with his nutty crap and help him not be so...so freakin' GABE...he'll just keep drivin' everybody crazy and bein' ridiculous until--"

"Until something unfortunate occurs. I understand." Sam runs a rather large hand through his mane and he comes up for air, his angst palpable. This time his voice lowers, deepens even though no one can hear him but me:

"Cas, you always know everything that goes on at the Bunker, you probably know that I, um...like when Dean acts like a jerk or gives you grief and you, uh, take care of it? I know...how...I kinda heard something outside you door once." I nod, unsurprised and meeting his eyes directly. "Gabe and I...when he's being an idiot and won't listen to anybody I--"

Heaven help me with these boys who cannot bring themselves to utter the word "spank", it's adorable. I've been working on it with Dean. Sam, I'll let off the hook...for now...:

"I _know_ , Sam. I've seen our Gabriel walk with that certain uncomfortable stride on several occasions lately. That stride he sometimes shares with his good friend Dean on a given morning." Sam's grin reflects both camaraderie and gratitude as his shoulders relax even further. I can see that there's more he wants to tell me; I sit patiently, the last thing I want is for him to feel hurried. Dean is still fast asleep I'm sure, we have time. And sure enough, another, much needed deep breath and raking of his fingers through that hair with another rush of words:

"I knew when I was younger that I liked the idea of--of--aw hell, of _punishing_  whoever needed me to. Not to be mean! To, like, make them feel better about stuff. I found a bunch of vids on YouTube and other places on the 'net and read some sites and I even bought my own--I have these--ugh, you don't wanna hear this..." I feel him shutting now and this is NOT the time--!

"Oh no, I most certainly _do_ , by all means continue!" He glances over at me and sees that I truly am intrigued. And I am, what did he buy...??

"Well see...ok. So when I was sixteen I went on an errand for my mom to pick up some antique desk she'd bought; while the guy was with another customer I wandered around the shop, and I came across these two 'things'. They were like belts but they definitely weren't belts, not exactly, and they had these handles...I liked them, Cas. I knew what they were for and the guy KNEW I knew, I had to have 'em and he even gave me a good deal 'cause he said he could tell I'd put 'em to good use! THAT freaked me out, like I had "PERVERT" or "ABUSER" written across my forehead or somethin'...! He put them in a big bag and I drove around with the bag way down in the compartment under my backseat for a week 'til everybody in my house was gone for the day. I took the bag to my room and just kinda stared at them for what had to be an hour, kept running my hands on the leather. I... Cas I DON'T wanna hurt anybody, I just...I dunno! I hid 'em way WAY in the back of my closet under the floorboards where I knew even my mom never found anything (and yeah, she snooped sometimes, ha) and they stayed there 'til I came to school. I can't tell you why I brought 'em with me, it just felt right; like if I was ever gonna...like if there was gonna be a chance to....play or whatever...and then one night a few weeks ago I just couldn't take Gabe's snarky bullshit anymore and I just got 'em out and, well...now that's a thing. " 

Hmm, he knows the term 'play'. He _has_ been reading. Or watching or chatting online perhaps...he's not *completely* new...and he already owns his own implements. I'm impressed. I rub one massive shoulder:

"It sounds as though you know who you are and what you enjoy, and what Gabriel seemed to need, and despite your misgivings you are most definitely not a bully. We enjoy what we enjoy, Sam, and if you've found that Gabriel can benefit from what you enjoy then all seems well to me."

"I get that, Cas, I really do, I just freak about it sometimes because he's never actually told me he _likes_ what we do! Don't get me wrong, he's much less of a lunatic and more chill after a good--"

_Come on Sam, you can say it, say the word "spanking"_

"--session..."

_Sigh._

"--but I still wish I had a better idea of what he really needs from me, if he *really* wants this. And I freely admit I lack the balls to just ask him, I honestly don't think he'd like that either..." I have to agree, I haven't spoken with Gabriel by any means but something tells me that he isn't ready for a discussion of his disciplinary needs. To quote my Dean, "the kid's head would explode!" and that's the last thing Sam needs to feel guilty over. Still, for now I believe I can assuage Sam's fears:

 "You simply have to ask yourself the truths as you know them: do you care for Gabriel, and does he care for you? Does he seem better, happier, for your attentions? Does he keep goading you, keep coming back for more, when he doesn't have to?" At this Sam stills, a light bulb was obviously just turned ON for him. Good. "The Gabriel that I see bopping around the Bunker with you seems more calm and content lately. I wonder why that is." Sam's small smile and bigger blush are quite satisfying; he knows what I'm saying to be true. "You're both over eighteen, what you do is your business. All I can tell you is that if you're both getting what you need and your friendship is only getting stronger then I see no problems. And I know that Gabriel is dealing with stress from home,"

Sam looks at me deeply for a moment, nodding slowly; ah, he does know about Zachariah's A+ parenting.

"...and if you can be a source of comfort and support, who cares if the manner seems unconventional?" He thinks this over, seeming to come to a decision or two inside.

"Thanks Cas. Seriously. I do have people I talk about this stuff with online, but it's not the same, y'know?"

"Anytime. And don't worry, we'll talk more. Ah, and Sam?" He turns back to me, I can already see through the hazel wonder of his eyes how quickly his mind is racing.

 "You've seen Dean in a way that you'd never imagined. It's wonderful that you're so accepting, he'll never know what a true friend he has in you. You need to remember though, *he* isn't aware that you're privy to his...younger side. It's very important that it stays that way until _he_ chooses to share that part of himself with you, understand? He's still the Dean you've always known and you'll need to treat him as such."

"Got it Cas, you're right. No problem, to me he's same old King of Everything Winchester." Sam climbs those giraffe-legs out and ambles off whistling, a weight obviously lifted from his shoulders at least some. I'm truly pleased to have had our talk, and that my Dean has such a good friend in Sam.

 

And speaking of my boy...all this talk has me in a _mood._

 

He's sitting up in bed, smiling at me and spooning ice cream from the container in his lap. Such a good, sweet boy.

Sounds of some show or other from the laptop on the bedside table. I need to hear other sounds. Now.

Shrugging off my trench I don't even greet my boy properly, "HEY Cas c'monnNAAHH--!!" is all he has time to utter before I've plucked the spoon from his fingers and placed the ice cream on the table and shoved and tickled and otherwise manhandled until he's lying across my lap, stretched out and _squealing_ from the icy cold spoon being dragged along his lower back and sides and this irresponsibly beautiful bottom. "CAS that's freakin' COLD sstoppitseriouslyEEEE!" He's lost in his laughter and can't even beg; the combination of freezing spoon between his inner thighs and my fingers burrowed into the hollow beneath his right arm has unraveled him completely. "WH-WHYY??" He manages to squeak, his face mostly covered by the blankets; sadly for him, whenever he tries to lift his chest harder tickling under his arm causes his shoulder to collapse; a game I could play all night if I were that cruel. Actually I *am* that cruel, I simply have more on the agenda.

"Do I need a reason?" I pause a moment to let him breathe and answer.

"N-no...nO SIR NO SIR SIR SIR..."  When I bend his leg to me and nibble viciously on the ball of his foot he always remembers the word "Sir". Fascinating.

"Did you just QUESTION MAH 'AUTHORI-TEH'?" I growl in the ridiculous South Park Cartman voice I apparently have a talent for, guaranteed to reduce him to even more of a mess. He shakes his head in the negative through hysterics.

"I believe you did. It seems that you need a lesson."

"NOOOO!!!"

"Did you just tell me "No"??"

" NO-Wait I didn't meanAAHH CAS N-OUCH!!!!" A spoon, now warm from its nice and cozy place between his thighs, applied with consistency to an already-sensitive backside. Legs flailing as he tries, so very hard, to behave for me; to be my good boy. I'll reward all of this good behavior momentarily:

The red circles created by the spoon are too much they taunt me and I need him NOW. I slide him off of my lap and I'm all over him, kissing each mark left by the spoon and licking and  _gnawing_  all along those ticklish ribs to make him _scream_ with laughter for me. Pulling his pajama bottoms the rest of the way off and sliding and easing my way inside and squeezing those luscious bottom cheeks up against my thighs I bite his calf he's yelling he's moaning I love I love I love this boy he's mine mine MINE---

I am lost. There is no me without this delicious boy.

 

 

 Naked. Sprawled across the bed watching THE WALKING DEAD together, finishing off my burger and the ice cream; his head on my knee, the rest of him sated and boneless. Tomorrow I'll send him back to class, he's well enough and ready.

Yes, judging from this evening, and my other set of sheets, I'd say his energy level is just about back to normal.

My mind wanders back to the conversation with Sam. The first of many, I'm sure. He's a good, lovely young man and he'll make a fine dominant for Gabriel. Whether they become more than they are now remains to be seen, meanwhile I take comfort in knowing that Sam feels better about things. And that he has such a calm, level head.

 

 

&+&+&+&+&

 

"Dude. The _fuck_ are you doing??"

Wanna know why I'm asking? Because SAM JUST OPENED MY MILK AND HE'S BLOWING ON MY FUCKING SOUP. Gabe and Garth are staring at the crazy muhfucka just as hard as I am before they both die laughing while Cas is just shaking his head, a weird little smile on his face...

"You've been ill, Dean, Sam's just trying to be of help to you. Right Sam?" Sam's blushing HARD and shaking his head 'yes' to Cas' pointed look; I thought it was weird enough when he insisted on carrying my tray but this...this is refuckin'diculous. I've been back in class for days now, I feel FINE but nobody seems to get that; Garth made my bed and actually did my laundry (ok that was cool but also weird as hell), Gabe insisted we take the stupid trolley-bus thing down the hill to town instead of me driving yesterday, and now this big-ass Scary Poppins is 'helping' me with my fucking dinner. This is some bullshit and it has GOT to stop--!!!

"Sorry man, I just...it looked too hot and you were really sick and--"

"...and I'm _*fine*_ now, blow on your OWN food you gigantic--" Cas clears his throat and now the pointed freakin' look is at ME--fuck.

"Thank you for helping me Sam," I mumble, my voice all I'm-fucking-annoyed-flat, "But I'm good, okay?" Sam nods again and concentrates on his big huge salad. Meanwhile Abbott and Costello can't just leave it alone:

"Gartholomew, shall I open your straw for you? I remember you had that deadly hangnail earlier this year..."

"Oh why thank you Gabriel, I'm just so...so _weak_...chew my burger for me and feed me like a baby bird wouldja??"

I hate my friends. Seriously you want 'em?

But their baloney is almost worth it to watch Sam slowly look up from his tray and focus his laser beams on Gabe, who's smirking like the ass-pain that he is...but he does settle down and ask Garth about their art history class to change the subject. Probably a smart move, Sam's been in extra "Sasquatch SuperNanny" mode since I went back to class on Monday and no one's above his 'attention.' He's walked me to classes he not IN, carried my books, I can't even cough without him asking if I feel dizzy, hell I didn't even WANT this soup, he put it on my tray and said it's better for me than "some greasy burger" and I just didn't feel like trying to argue with Yeti-Dad. This is insanity though, I gotta get away from these guys for awhile or I shall murder someone...

"I'm done fellas, I'll see y'all later." I grab my tray and head to the disposal section, acting like I didn't see the Dred-Brow on its ascent. Sure enough Cas follows me out the doors of the dining hall, I can see him from the corner of my eye and I know I need to stop and talk but I'm just sooo tired of...of everything from being sick to everyone else on the planet to--

 **"STOP."** Dammit. No matter how frustrated you are, if that voice doesn't stop you in your tracks you ain't alive, I turn, to see Cas slowly strolling up to me. Yes he's hot. Ugh.

"...and where are you off to, little one?" He's fussing with my jacket, turning up my collar against the wind. "It's freezing out here and you were--" And that's where I lose my shit--!!

**_"YES I KNOW I WAS SICK GUESS WHAT I'M BETTER NOW SO BACK THE FUCK OFF."_ **

Oh. Oh no. 

Cas *stops*. Stops fixing my jacket, stops talking. Maybe he stops breathing.

I did. I feel like i don't remember how.

We stare at each other like statues for a good ten seconds (a much longer time than you'd think--!) before he releases my collar

 _released_ me _he released **ME** no oh no oh no_

and steps back. He's smiling a little. It's the most frightening thing I have seen in my entire life and my heart feels like a ball of slate in my chest. I step toward him and he steps back--

"Cas I'm sorry I didn't mean to say that--!" His face, his _eyes._..stay exactly the same. Very, very, cold. I feel like it may never be spring again.

"That's fine, Dean--"

_little one little boy Punk Punkin not Dean O please_

"--I have work to catch up on. I was a bit distracted over these last days, caring for a sick young man. I'll be in my room later. Join me in an hour, after you've had some time to yourself. We'll have a nice long discussion about how much better you're feeling."

His eyes soften, just a little, before he turns on his heel and walks off; all billowy and bad-ass trenchcoaty Castiel. 

I want to run after him like a bad puppy. He can swat my nose if he wants to. Or anything else. 

Instead...I head to my car. I need to clear my head. And get ready for what I just earned, fuck me...

 

&+&+&+&+&

 

 

Been driving around for a good hour and a half, probably more. I should call Cas back, or at least text him; I know he's gonna kill me for not responding, that's one of his Cardinal Rules:

 _"_ _You will *always* let me know that you're safe, little boy, I don't care how busy you are or how angry you may be; I will never ignore you and I expect the same courtesy. The longer I worry, the longer you'll weep."_

I'm being a moron, and a mean moron at that; I know this, I know I'm already in trouble. I just...dammit I need to do something--I have NO idea what--to balance out all the 'Little Dean'

_'Baby' Dean can't you even think it you know you loved it_

stuff the last few days. I wish there was a place around here where you could go kick down trees or fight Sharknados with a lightsaber or something...

And there it is.

**PURGATORY.**

I think I've found my Sharknado.

Everybody on Campus knows about the Purg. Hot but kinda scary guys, great music...'stuff' going on in the back rooms and the basement and out back in the alley and don't even talk about the bathroom, apparently the floor is so, uh...seasoned...that even Doc Martins will smell like ass for the rest of ever. Most of it is hearsay 'cause you have to be over 21 and they actually enforce it. Good thing my I.D. says I'm 24. And yeah I know, I'm eighteen and I can still pass for sixteen some days...shut up it'll be FINE, worse that happens is they turn me away; at least I tried, right?

Whatever. And no I won't say you didn't warn me, Buzz Killington.

I park aways down the street. Run a hand through my hair and put on my best "I AM A BADASS DO NOT FUCK WITH ME" face. Close my jacket, thanking the Gods that I happen to be wearing the dark leather one that zips; this Great Space Coaster shirt is awesome but doesn't exactly help me look older. I ease into the line of guys waiting to get in, ignoring the _looks_ I get from a few obviously-legit over 21 dudes. Also totally ignoring the way my gut is screaming about how legendary the ass-whomping will be if Cas ever finds out...HOLY HELL I'M UP

"I.D." The bouncer-door dude is 'built', muscles on his muscles. Seriously I want arms like that, damn. Black sleeveless shirt and the darkest blue jeans; short hair and scruffy beard/mustache combo that really work for him. If I was even almost available...but I'm not and I have GOT to stop fucking staring; twinks stare and I ain't no twink. SHUT UP I AM NOT.

Bouncer Dude takes my I.D. (my hands aren't shaking your hands are shaking!) and give it the once-over, looks back and forth between the card and my totally-not-sweating face. His eyes kinda narrow...then he grunts and hands it back to me, nods me in. I'M IN I'M IN--!!!!

...now what...?

I have no idea what to do now. I didn't think I'd get in, now here I am in a bar I'm not supposed to be in surrounded by guys who aren't my Cas. This was a mistake, as usual my dumb ass didn't think things through...ugh. Eh well, I'm here. I'll have ONE beer, dance it off with somebody hot (maybe that bouncer will have a break...?), and take my ridiculousness the hell back to the Bunker. That'll be enough Manliness for the night. I'm about to head to the bar when there's a hand on my shoulder--

"'Scuse me Son, can I see the I.D. again?" Bouncer Dude is RIGHT behind me, I can barely hear him over 'DU HAST' playing beyond loud. He's looking kinda--I don't wanna say 'predatory' because that's not it. Not exactly. Just...hell I dunno how to describe it, but it's making my lower belly clench and I honestly can't tell if it's in a good or bad way--!

'Sure man, no problem!" I force my hands to be steady as I take my I.D. back out, hand it to him. He stares at it a for barely a second before--

Next thing I know he's got me by the upper arm and we're heading toward the back of the bar he put my I.D. in his back pocket it happened so fast WHERE THE FUCK ARE WE GOING

" **HEY MAN STOP** , where the fuck are you taking me??" Nobody stops what they're doing just keep on drinking and dancing I'm trying my damndest to dig my heels in but this goddamn slippery-ass dance floor is NOT helping and now we're in some room in the back THE BACK OF PURGATORY OH NO OH GOD CAS SAM SOMEBODY SHIT---!!!!

I'm about to freak the FUCK out and start swingin' on Bouncer Dude when I hear a 'click' of metal. And something heavy and cold around my left wrist. I go to wrench that arm away but he uses my momentum and my hand is cuffed to a pipe over my head OH FUCK

 **"Dude let me the FUCK outta here I WILL kick your ass!!!!"** He's stepped back just far enough that there's no way I can reach him. And from how loud that music is no one can hear me.

I'm so very, very fucked.

I'll be scared later, right now I'm too mad. At myself even more than at this guy who's probably gonna make a Beetlejuice tuxedo out of my skin or some shit...

All he's doing is standing there, arms crossed. Shaking his head with a little smile that makes me wanna push his face down into his (thick muscle-y) neck. "That was too easy, Lil' Man. I barely broke a sweat, you need self-defense classes. Or your Daddy." I'm about to tell him to FUCK ALL THE WAY OFF and start screaming at the top of my goddamned lungs when he takes out his phone and calls...somebody...?

"'Sup Cher," he rumbles in this accent of his that's--French? Not exactly--? "Got a cub here I do believe done wandered from it's bear. Yup...all good, see you in ten." He's looking me the whole time he's on the phone, that smile getting wider. Puts the phone back in his pocket and comes at me. I'm ready, my arm is cuffed high enough that I'm seriously off-balance but I can still--

I can swing like the worlds most useless piñata while he easily dodges my free arm and leg and gets behind me. FUCK ME I FAIL AT LIFE AND NOW I'M GONNA DIE.

He grabs my flailing right arm and it's too fucking easy for him to wrap a leg around my right, I can't take my weight off my left or it'll *kill* my cuffed wrist. I try to brain him with my head, that's how fucking CLOSE he is...and he just grabs my hair, pulling my head back onto his shoulder. What'll he do if I bite him--??

"Behave yo'self,  Lil' Man, and we'll be a'ight." His voice thrumbles all through me, I must be fucking out of my mind because I find myself...responding. Heat where there should _not_ be heat right now. The fuck is wrong with me...I feel him grinning a little. He _knows...he knows I'm batshit nuts and I fucking want him to...to..._

He runs his lips along my neck, a deep chuckle when I can't help my shiver. Gets right up to the shell of my ear, soft and wet and and... _ominous_ like new thunder:

"We got a bit o' time 'til my friend comes to party. Let's you and me have a lil' fun on our own 'til then."

 

 

TO BE CONTINUED (yeah Bella ya think??)  >:-)

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to try something a lil' different at the end, tell me whatcha think so far!
> 
> And yes, Sam and Cas will have lots more converations; anything you wish they'd discussed can be suggested in a comment and I'll do my best to write it up for you! :)


	15. Little Big Man part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ever try to be all badass and intimidating when your arms are cuffed overhead and no one who loves you actually knows where the fuck you are? Yeah it doesn't work all that well...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Toldja it wouldn't be long ;) 
> 
> A HUGE-NORMOUS shout-out to everyone who loved the last chapter and let me know, you guys rock so hard it's ridiculous; thank you so much!!!

 

I'm struggling as much as I can, this nut’s got a serious hold on me and honestly I can barely move. He doesn't even seem to be working all that hard to hold me still; I gotta start going to the gym with Sammy 'cause this is some bullshit--!!

"Settle down, Lil' Man, you're a'ight; notice how nobody out there’s bustin' in here to rescue you from Nasty ol' Benny. That's 'cause they know you're ok, we get rowdy up in here but nothin' ta fret over."

So his name's Benny and he's only *slightly* crazy and I don't even need to scream 'cause nobody cares. How lucky for me. THE FUCK IS UP WITH MY LIFE--!!!

"Now first things first: where's your phone, darlin'? I want it where it’s ’safe’." I  _really_ wish he'd stop talking right against the pulse of my neck, it's making it too damn hard (haha shut UP) to think. And in case you're wondering, my phone is fucking useless; it's in the upper pocket inside my jacket on the left and there was no way in Hell I could reach it once Pepe Le Steroid here had me all tangled up. I'm not telling _him_ that though--!

"I left it in my car, don't you think I'd have grabbed it by now??" I feel more than I hear him rumble that laugh of his:

"I think the last few minutes or so went way too fast for you t'do much of anything, Honeyboy. Now I'll ask you a'gin: where is it? I won't ask a third time." His grip on my hair gets just that much harder, he's trying to scare me. It's fucking working. I'm still not giving in and telling him that--I can't--

"It's in my car asshole, I  _said_  I—“

And of COURSE the goddamned thing starts vibing in my friggin' pocket--!!! For fuck’s sake, whatever Gods I pissed off today must feel better by now...

Benny (seriously I'm being kidnapped and molested by a  _Benny_?? Fuck my life!) gives that deep chuckle and s-l-o-w-l-y unzips my jacket. My freakin' traitorous brain immediately goes to when Cas unzips my footie pajamas to switch to Big Dean Time--NOPE NOPE I WILL NOT GO THERE I CAN'T I CAN'T NOPE SO NOT THE TIME FOR THAT--ugh, why doesn't my dick understand that we might get DEAD any minute now?!? 

_He won't hurt you he won't you can tell he won't_

It's true, my cock is a moron but he rarely lies. I don't know how but I just…know: Benny's fucking with me but he won't _really_ hurt me. And the way he's holding me against him, the fact that I can't get away and his lips are so  _warm._..that beard of his feels all...geezus I'm gettin' hard for real and this is NOT the time for that the FUCK is wrong with me--! I feel another chuckle rumbling in his chest, he nips my earlobe and my brain wants to punch him into next year but honestly my cock wants him to do it again...DON'T JUDGE ME DAMMIT, I'm eighteen; my cock gets hard if I run up the stairs too fast for fuck's sake...that does NOT mean I actually want this creep's hands all over me! He's not my Cas and he IS a kidnappy creep; the fact that he's fucking gorgeous and he smells like woodsmoke and the forest after midnight doesn't change anything...god his arms are...BITE ME

He finds my phone in two seconds; he's still behind me, he can't see my stupid shirt at least...'cause  _that's_  a thing that's important right now. I'm an idiot.

 "Call 'Sam' when you get time," he says as he tosses it...somewhere, I don't hear it crash so it must have landed where it won't break. Good, he's not destructive and, again, only _kinda_  batshit....Sam SAMMY AW DAMMIT SAM WOULD MURDER THIS MURDERER BEFORE HE COULD MURDER ME—

Fine, Benny (probably) won’t murder me. It would still be nice to have Sam kick his ass. It's a great ass but a psycho ass and it needs *serious* kicking. With a big Sammy-Sized shoe! 

…ok you're right, my Sammy would save me but then Uppercase SAM would ask how I got in here in the first place and that...might not end well. And then Cas would destroy whatever's left. Maybe I should just get murdered--

"We got us a problem, Honeyboy. You tol' me a fib."

Um, whut? Is he serious? And who even says "fib"!?

"Listen asshole why would I just _tell_ you where my phone was... _OW OW OW HEY!!!"_  He just smacked the front of my left thigh! Three times!! In the same spot!!! Even through my jeans it HURT goddammit--! 

"You tell me fibs, "Lil Man. you get my hand on them legs of yours; tellin' me the truth is part of b'havin'. Ya hear?"

"FUCK Y- _OWOWOWWTCH!!!!!_ More on my other leg, again in the same spot, OWTCH. I refuse to tear up but godDAMN that stung, I feel my bottom lip wobble...Cas needs to never know about the _front_ of the legs for the love of--

"Speakin' nicely is also part of b'havin' yo'self. My name is BENNY. Not 'Asshole' or anythang else not so nice. HEAR ME?" I nod quickly, let him win this one. My thighs hurt and it's the front not the back but still my head's going into *wrong* places for right now...

"Good, I don't wanna hafta do that again." His voice is nicer as he gently pulls my head back onto his shoulder. I know, I should've cracked his head with mine when it was loose for a minute but my mind was...I was distracted okay?? You get Bouncer-napped and see how great your brain works...

"So tell me about'cher Daddy." He's rubbing his cheek against mine, slowly and all tender. I hate him but I like his beard, it's all soft and I AM LOSING MY MIND KIDNAPPERS DON'T HAVE NICE SOFT BEARDS...

"I don't have a-- _NO DON'T OKAY I DO!!!"_ His free hand raised over my thigh just made me all kinds of chatty dammit..."I do have a--a boyfriend ok?" Call me a coward but his hand is so heavy Thor should use it to fly around. damn...

"Oh I figgered, Honeyboy. You're too sweet and way too pretty not to. There's a song from back in the day: _"He must be somebody's baby, he's so fine..._ " Huh. Benny can sing. That'll help him make friends in prison.  Meanwhile he's rubbing the spots he smacked (I admit it feels good, sue me) and asking more about my 

_Daddy is Cas my Daddy maybe he is I think he is am I really so fine not the point dumbass_

"So this Daddy of yours: is he good to ya?" 

"I--yeah, yeah he is..." He is too, he's gonna kill me but I'd give anything to see his face right now...

"He gives ya good lovin, takes care of ya when ya need it?" He could mean that in different ways...I realize the answer would always be

"Yeah. He does--OWTCH GEEZ!!" Benny laid a *HARD* smack on my left thigh, I know there's a handprint I just know it OW--!

"Then _why_ is a little piece o' pie like you out'chere all by hisself? Anythin' could happen and yo' Daddy's somewhere worried over you!"

Oh lovely, I've been kidnapped by an Afterschool Special. Just shoot me in the foot. 

He's right though. I know he is. No idea why he cares, but he's right. When I do get back to my Castiel I'll accept whatever he decides I deserve. 

For now though, Crazy MaGoo here has plans for me: 

"Now be a good lil' man and put this hand I'm holdin' up on the pipe where the other one is."

Wait what? Oh FUCK no. I admit, part of me wants to just do as he

_commands_

tells me to; but I can't  _do_  that, can't just DO what this

_crazy hot strong_

lunatic wants--I have to show him I'm a grown man and he can't just control me dammit...cuffed or not it's time to man up!

"How 'bout you go fuck yourse _AAHAHSTOPPIT--!!!"_ oh JESUS he's grabbing my left side and digging his fucking fingers into my ribs I can't fucking take that o  _god_  the FUCK--!!!! He's talking to me while he's--geezus I can't--AAAHHH!!!!!

"I ain't gonna hurtcha," he's saying, amusement at my admittedly pathetic scream adding velvet to his voice; "that ain't my thing. But I *will* make you suffer 'til you do as I say, just b'cause I can." He's so friggin' calm fuck me I can't even bend at ALL can't twist away this is insane--F-FUCK NOT UNDER MY ARM NONONONO--!!! On and on and on he's not stopping  _shit shit SHIT_

 **"FINEFINEF-FINE YOU DICK JUST STOP--!!!!"**  He lets go of my right arm and stops fucking tickling me; keeps a hold on my jacket sleeve, I can't just haul off and backhand the crap out of him like I really REALLY want to... I catch my breath from giggling like a COMPLETE IMBECILE while he's laughing soft and low, and gently (!) wiping the sweat from my forehead; I can't help sagging back against him a little; he's...this is...

I don't think most kidnappings are like this.

"Now put'cho hand up on the pipe like a good lil' man, or we can keep this up 'til my friend gets here and HE can help me teach you to b'have. Whas it gonna be, Honeyboy? "  I...fuck but if he starts that again--call me weak or whatever but that was just brutal; in utter freakin' defeat I raise my right arm to grab the pipe.

He immediately dives a hand under that armpit and pokes and I FREAK and slam my arm back down, what the HELL?? And now his hand is trapped under there and I am utterly screwed. I hear him 'tsk', his velvet lips grinning against the pulse of my neck...

"C'mon now, what did I tell you t'do?  Not gonna be Benny's Bad Boy, are ya?" O you smug sonuva--!!

"I  _couldn't_...you didn't let me!!"  I can *feel* the Dirty Ratbastardness on his face, I'm a big brother and I've had that look myself...poor Charlie; maybe I'll apologize for all I did to her, this SUCKS.

"Don't know whatcha talkin' about, now try a'gin; just grab that ol' pipe like a good boy." Yeah right. I'm not an idiot--ok yes I AM an idiot obviously but I *know* this game, and I won't win until he lets me...still I gotta try. I raise my arm as fast as I can to grab the damn pipe and I almost reach it when

 ** _"GAAHHAHHAH STOPTHATSHIT AHAH!!!!!"_**  I end up trapping his hand under my arm AGAIN. And again and again and now he's just being an evil prick and drilling into my armpit while I'm fucking SHRIEKING into the hand he's clamped over my mouth; pleaseoplease rob me or beat me up or anything the fuck else but not this bullshit its TORTURE and what the hell do I even tell the police?!?

Finally, _finally_ after forever he stops. Puts my hand on the pipe himself while I'm trying to breathe and before I can even see straight he's unlocked the cuff on the pipe and slid it over my right hand. And now here we are, I'm totally and completely trapped. By the fucking French Ticklemonster. Just kill me now; it would be less traumatic and way less ridiculous than whatever the fuck this is. It should be against the law to feel this stupid. I honestly don't think I've ever been this...frustrated...in my entire fucking life. I'm dangling from BOTH fucking wrists now and the way he got me to give in…ugh I can't even get abducted like a grownup.

Ever try to be all badass and intimidating when your arms are cuffed overhead and no one who loves you actually knows where the fuck you are? Yeah it doesn't work all that well. And what's killing me (besides Benny possibly) is that I feel like I  _know_ him from somewhere. His face, his  _voice..._ I think that's the real reason I'm not screaming like a blonde in a slasher flick right now. There's something...familiar...and I'm fucking APPREHENSIVE but not exactly afraid...

"I like you, Sugah. You got some fight but you're really just a sweet lil' Gigglebear ain'tcha?" Oh for--I'd tell him to go fuck himself with a rusty rake but my thighs still sting, not gonna hurt me yeah right...yes I know that probably didn't count as 'hurting' to him; still sucked though. And now he's doing this  _thing_ with his nails all over my nipples through my shirt, his nails are a little longer than most guys and fuck me it feels *amazing*...it tickles  _so bad_  but it makes me wanna moan as much as laugh and oh god I dunno what I want...I feel like I should apologize to Cas just for thinking what I'm thinking... 

"Relax, Lil' Man," he says against my neck in this low, smoky way that rolls all through me, "like I said, I ain't gon' hurtcha; as long as you b'have we'll get along just fine." He's still hugging me back against him, the hold on my hair firm but not actually pulling; massaging actually. I'm pretty freakin’ far from relaxed, but my heart's not about to pound its way out of my chest like it was a few minutes ago. At least not because of fear...screw you of COURSE I still wanna get the hell outta here! Especially before whoever he called before shows up; I doubt that'll be good (friggin’ understatement!) and I HAVE to get back to the Bunker, Cas has to be looking for me and maybe Sam and Garth and Gabe and--I gotta get home...his hands are under my shirt now (GEEZ they're cold if his lips weren't so warm I'd think he was dead!), he's running his nails all over my chest and sides making me squirm against him I want him god help me I should only want my Cas but damn he's making me hot making me want him he feels so...WHAT THE HELL I CAN'T DO THIS--

"Look Dude, this is...I don't _know_ what the hell this is but you have to let me go! People are waiting to hear from me and you can't just DO thiAUGMMFF--!

No this motherfucker did NOT just shove a GAG IN MY MOUTH OH GOD he's tying whatever it is behind my head I try to shake if off and he just digs into my side again _nononoHAFUCK--_

"You're cute as hell, Lil' Gigglebear, but your words are bringin' me down. How 'bout you stay quiet for a bit?'

It's a really good thing I'm gagged; the words that would've come out just now would probably have made him spank my thighs 'til they were as red as I *know* my face has got to be, if he keeps calling me his Gigglebear my face will literally burst into flames...meanwhile he's running his fingers all over my chest and belly and I'm just hanging there letting him and

 

...and the door bursts open and this FUCKING DUDE is standing there in black leather jeans and black leather boots and this scary fucking black leather harnessy-thing across his chest and I REALLY REALLY DON'T WANT HIM TO COME ANY FUCKING CLOSER--

\--and he doesn't. He just looks at us for a second and turns back to the dark hallway:

"Yep, they're in this one!" WHO THE HELL IS HE TALKING TO--

And then there's my Cas my Cas MY CAS OH THANK EVERY FREAKIN' GOD INCLUDING THE EVIL ONES. I'm so so happy to see him my whole body slumps with it I won't let myself cry but goddamn it I'm close...

\--wait.

Cas is here here here WHY IS CAS HERE--

"Thank you Ezekiel, I haven't been back here in quite awhile." The big dude nods and claps Cas on the back before taking off, closing the door behind him. Because guys gagged and cuffed to pipes is a normal thing. And maybe it is around here, fuck me...meanwhile I'm automatically squirming and straining to get to Cas when I realize...Cas isn't rushing over to me. And Benny isn't freaking out, neither did Ezekiel.

And Cas knew whoever the hell Ezekiel is.

And...the quick look of relief I saw on Cas' face for a second isn't there anymore. Now he looks...calm.

Frighteningly Cas-Calm. Whatever's going on here, he's not scared. MEANING I FUCKING SHOULD BE.

How can I feel safe and even more in trouble at the same time...?

Cas is shaking his head as he comes closer to us, looking at me but talking to Benny. " I see you still enjoy your unique style of teaching a lesson. Did you tell him?"

_who me tell me what or tell him what and what the FUCK is going on--!--!_

"Figured I'd give it time, see if he figured it out on his lonesome; 'parently not, least he ain't said." Cas smirks at that and comes even closer, takes my chin in his hand and turns me to Benny.

"Mr. Winchester, allow me to introduce Benjamin Lafitte. You've no doubt met already, he's one of our campus head security officers."

 _Wait WHUT---!!!! THAT'S where I know him from?!?_  

I feel my eyes all wide, I DO KNOW HIM; I've even TALKED to him before, about crap like where I can park--! No  _wonder_  he looked so fucking familiar...didn't recognize him without his uniform...I am a level of dumbass that should be cared for by the state.

...and _that’s_ why I haven't been more seriously scared. Part of my brain knew who Benny is and that he's...safe; CRAZY and sadistic and a pain in the ass, but I just...knew...he wasn't really gonna hurt me.

Meanwhile he just smiles and winks, and pretends to tip his hat. Dick.

"Didn't lie when I said I knew you had a Daddy, 'Dean'." Goddamn it he knew who I was this whole time--! I currently hate everyone and everything and I really wanna go kick down a few trees now.

"Benjamin and I have been friends for many years, we once worked here together; I was a bartender and he…kept the peace.” They exchange a *look*, I don't even wanna know what these two were like back in the day...I shudder just thinking about it.

“…he still works here some nights, but usually he's my eyes and ears all over campus from sundown to sunrise. Bit of a vampire is our Benjamin;  in fact it was he who informed me of that last time you were late to rehearsal." What the--?? REALLY?? Oh great, a dick *AND* a snitch. Seriously I hate this guy!

_I wish he'd do that thing with his nails again no I belong to Cas not his not HIS Cas needs to make him set me loose I really need to be uncuffed now go home now RIGHT...?_

Cas brings my head back towards him; he's still looking at me but talking to Benny. "Was he good for you? Did he put up much of a fuss?" 

"A little, but I can' fault him for it since I did kinda haul him back here like it was a horror show. Tamed him pretty quick though, he's a good little Gigglebear once you teach him what's what." He squeezes my hipbones and I SQUEAK through the damned gag; Cas smirks and I need the floor to open up and just swallow me NOW before I die of fucking humiliation...

“So tell me, just how did my boy here fall into your tender clutches?”

Wait nonono PLEASE don’t give Cas the--shit!!! Benny’s handing over my fake I.D. and I can feel my asscheeks trying to jump off my body and run the fuck away…I’m wondering which of my classes I can stand in tomorrow…

Cas gives it the once-over and just slips it into his pocket, his chilling eyes right back on mine. “You really didn’t need this added on to your list of sins, little boy. I’m sure you and Benjamin have had an interesting evening—“

INTERESTING?? Yeah and the Grand Canyon is a fucking POTHOLE--!!!

“—but it’s time to go home. We have quite a bit to ‘discuss’.” I want absolutely NO PART of that discussion; I just want to curl up in his lap and say sorry a few thousand times…I know I deserve whatever I have coming though, I was terrible to Cas and made him worry and…and Benny hugs me closer to him and actually POUTS at Cas (!)

"Aw, do I have to give him back now? He's an awful lotta fun t' _play_  wit," Benny’s running a single nail around my hip bone while he's talking to Cas; goddammit I feel myself getting hard again...

Cas narrows his eyes, watching me. He knows. He knows I want...more. He steps even closer and his gaze is like flinty steel and for a moment I'm more afraid than I've been this whole night. I'll take a crazy kidnapper over Cranky Cas any day that ends in 'Y', thank you very much...

"Oh, I don't know, I should probably take him back to school. Spank his naughty bottom and cleanse this insolent mouth with my strongest soap to wash away the horrid words he spoke to me earlier this evening." He says this while his hand is stroking me through my jeans. So, so slowly that I may go fucking insane--

"How about it,  _Punk_? Should I take you home right now, punish you and put you right to bed?" He leans in and he's still stroking me and I think he's gonna kiss me through the gag; instead his lips are right against mine

"...or maybe I *should* keep you here a bit longer; show you what Mr. Lafitte and I can do with a naughty, misbehaving brat when we decide to work together.” Cas s _queezes_  me through my jeans and Benny's nails are skating all over my hips and belly and it's a miracle I don't just BURST and ruin my--oh fuck I want Cas and I want Benny and I wanna come until my bones are nothing but dust. Benny bites into my neck right where it becomes my shoulder while Cas takes off the gag and kisses me deep so deep Benny's nails are tracing circles under my arms I can't help laughing it gets lost in the kiss and Cas is rubbing and squeezing and Benny bites me HARD it hurts it's amazing I'm gonna--

then Cas has Benny by the hair and lifts his head away from my neck they've stopped they've STOPPED NOT NOW I'M SO CLOSE GODAMMIT---!!!!!!!

"Did you mark him, Benjamin? If you did I'll mark you and it won't be on your neck." My eyes are glassy with what I need but I can see how Cas is looking at Benny, Oh fuck the Dred-Brow and it's not at me! Benny's shaking his head. "Naw Sir I did not, you know I wouldn't." Cas looks at my neck anyway, still holding Benny by the hair (which Benny is allowing and that needs to be thought about a LOT when my brain is working again--!). Whatever he does or doesn't see must satisfy him; he ruffles Benny's hair as he lets him go. "Well done. And I think Mr. Winchester's had enough 'fun' for this evening, please give me the cuff key and close the door on your way out." Benny sighs reluctantly; squeezes my hip and nips my ear sending one last shiver through me before handing the key over to Cas. "Just toss 'em on the desk before you go." Cas kisses Benny on the cheek as he passes on his way out; Benny stops at the door, turns and gives me a smile that I swear changes how my heart beats. "See ya 'round campus, 'Lil Man. And I think you know now, I'd best not see the wrong thing." He winks, it's sexy it's hot it's a promise of my doom if I even breathe wrong and he knows about it. I thought Cas was bad enough, now...

Holy hell my life is ridiculous.

 

&+&+&+&+&

 

"Well, Little Boy? Can you make it home or should I take care of you right here?"

I'm stroking him through his jeans again, his teenage hardness could cut through Kryptonite. His eyes are glazing over again, his need is throbbing all through him and I know how badly he needs release.

"Here Cas, please right here..." I crash my lips into his and kiss him long and lingering as I unlock one cuff and then the other; they fall to the floor and I'm slipping his jacket off and tossing it behind me as we back all the way to the desk, our kiss never breaking; unsnap his jeans and graze him with my knuckles, he's keening as I pull them down with his boxer-briefs, sliding them down past his knees as his bare backside meets the desk behind him. I break our kiss just long enough to look into his leaf-colored, lust-hazy eyes--

\--and pull the desk chair under me with one hand while I yank my little delinquent down across my lap with the other. He *yelps* in utter and complete shock (GOOD) as I arrange him so that all that raging  'eagerness' between those spankable thighs of his falls safely between my own legs, where it'll be out of harm's way  _and_  have nothing whatsoever to rub against; now is not the time for that kind of relief. That's for good boys.

"Cas what the--aw 'c'mon not NOW!!!!" he wails, struggling against being trapped yet again in the same evening: his jeans and boxers have his legs conveniently inconvenienced and both hands are on the floor, over my knee in this chair there is no leverage to be had; just as I wanted. The struggles increase, understandably so, when the hairbrush that's been waiting in my back pocket is tapping against the surprisingly pale bottom before me. It seems Benny was lenient. I will not be.

"Right now, little boy. You did choose for me to take care of you right here. We need to have a private conversation."

"We--we're gonna talk?" The hopefulness, though futile, is endearing. I skim the bristles across his bottom, sending shivers and further jangling already confused nerves.

"In a sense. I'm going to talk and you're going to answer. And here's a hint: the only correct answer is "Yes Sir." And that's all I have to say before

**WHAP**

**CRACK**

**SMACK**

_**"D-AAAHH CAS PLEASE"** _

"You were warned from the very beginning: if you *ever* purposely put yourself in harm's way you would be a very sorry little boy. Not only did you get yourself into an over-twenty one club

**SMACK**

"ALONE,"

**SMACK WHAP**

"with a false I.D. <which by the way you will never see again>,"

  **SWAP SMACK WHACK**

"But you ignored my attempts to contact you for well over an hour. UNACCEPTABLE. **"**

**SMAP**

**WHACK**

**SMACK**

**WHAP**

**CRACK**

**SMACK**

_**"OWIEEEEEOWAHHCAS PLEAA--"** _

"You will not worry me like that again."  **SMACK _"YESSIR PLEA--"_**

 "When I call you I expect an answer."  **WHAP CRACK " _OWIEEE YES SIR PLEASE SIIIRR!!!"_**

 "When I text you I expect an answer  **SMAP WHACK SMACK "Y _ESSIR YESSIR AAHHH PLEASE CAS!!!"_**

"If I send up smoke signals I expect an ANSWER or the smoke will be coming from *this* fire, are we CLEAR?"  **SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK**

**" _AAAAAHOWOWOWOWAAHHH_ _SORRYSORRIEEEE.."_**

Three to his bottom, the rest to those no-longer-snowy thighs of his. By now he's beyond tears and pleading and simply _sobbing_ ; on top of everything else he was no doubt put through before I even arrived (I know Benjamin), his nerves are supremely on edge and sensitive from adrenaline and his lack of release and I am NOT being gentle with this hairbrush. I can't be. As much as my heart churns to hear my precious boy in this state, it's nothing to what went through my mind when I had no idea where he was. THAT isn't happening again. If I have to spank him through the winter and into the spring, so be it. 

Or perhaps I'll send him to Benjamin for a weekend. It would be no less severe.

I let the brush fall to the floor. Slowly slide the weeping one from my lap until he's kneeling on the floor between my knees, face buried into me while I rub his back and stroke this soft thatch of Winchester hair. Curls, when he's a been perspiring like this...and no I didn't rub that naughty bottom. Let it burn for a bit longer. He needs that, I believe. He definitely deserves it.

I do hold him to me until the wails wane into sniffles and shudders, before lifting his flushed face with a finger under his chin. Sad eyes, sweet green moss in a summer rain, tremble as they meet my own.

"And now the correct answer is 'No Sir'. Are you planning to EVER speak to me again the way you did outside the dining hall?"

"N-oh Sir." Hiccups and more tears spilling, and not just because of his burning backside.

"Are you ever going to let me worry and wonder where you--"

"NO SIR NO I (hic) didn't mean to worry you I'm SO (hic) SORRY--!!!" He buries himself back into me, arms wrapping 'round me and fresh sobs breaking both our hearts. My ridiculous, impulsive, sweet little boy. Sigh.

"Settle down," I'm whispering to him, though we're the only ones here. "You're alright. You were very, very good for your spanking and it's over now. Let's go home, a bit of Arnica lotion and bedtime for brats who belong to me." He nods, still sniffling. Looks up at me, eyes wondering...

"Cas, I...are you mad that Benny..." Ah, yes, this needs to be addressed.

"No worries, Little One. You belong to me. You know this. And I expect it to be remembered and honored. Having said that, there may occasionally be...opportunities...to indulge in a bit of enjoyment with others that we trust and care for. Upon my approval, I see no reason to deny ourselves that pleasure. Benjamin and I trust one another with our lives. He knew that as long as he was...reasonably respectful...he didn't need my explicit permission to teach you a good lesson." He nods, thinking. I'm sure Benny was his usual overwhelming self, but I know he didn't go too far or actually harm my boy. My boy who needs to get back to the Bunker and into my bed, he's absolutely exhausted. It crosses my mind that he does need a little something to show the world that this beautiful boy is mine. Perhaps for Christmas...something to think about.

Standing, I grip him tight and raise him from position. His head finds my shoulder for a moment, breathing in my cologne and my natural scent; I know they soothe him. And speaking of soothers, I know of a Batman sassifier that may be of use before this night is through...we'll see.

I shrug back into my jacket and grab his phone as I watch him take his own from the floor (wincing from even that mild stretch of the skin across his backside as he bends; yes I take satisfaction in that). He's searching his pockets...

"Cas, my car keys were in here--!" He's beginning to panic and glance about the floor. "It's fine, your keys aren't lost. Benny has them."

He looks at me, exhaustion and wariness creating quite the expression. "Uh...why does Benny have 'em...? Is my car okay??" Interesting how my smile leads to even more wariness in his eyes.

"Your car is just fine. And she'll be just as fine when you come back in a week to collect her. Benny will give the keys to Purgatory's owner, you can pick her up when you return to apologize for entering his club under false pretenses."

I watch as his face goes from shock to fury (briefly, oh so briefly) to...acceptance. Repentant, resigned acceptance. Nodding, head down, he leans into my kiss to his forehead as I wrap an arm around him and lead him out the door.

 

&+&+&+&+&

 

_He's coming for me he's everywhere I feel him I can't see him but I know I KNOW AHH--_

My eyes pop open; I'm slick with sweat and I'm breathing heavy and Cas grumbles a little, pulling me closer. I snuggle back into him as much as I can, snatches of the dream still swirling...

I was in a dark forest. Running as fast as I could on the softest Earth. I was afraid...but I wasn't. I didn't want to be caught

_yes you did_

by whatever it was

_You know what it was you know WHO it was you KNOW_

but it was all around somehow and it was laughing it wanted to bite me and eat me up and there was nothing I could do. And just when it was about to get me with its claws

_Nails not claws nails that know all your secrets_

I woke up. My heart is still pounding and all of me is...pulsing.

Wonder what it meant. Ah well.

Wrap my Cas tighter around me and drift off, to see what other dreams are waiting.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one took me awhile, I hope y'all liked my version of our Benny :) More fun with Sam and Gabe up next!


	16. Brat You Forever ♥

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pay NO attention to this silliness, you guys know I don't do tooth-rotting fluff but we reached 20,000 hits (OMG YAY) and I wanted to do something special. 'Love You Forever" by Robert Munsch is a classic book we moms give other moms to make each other cry, I still can't read the darned thing without dissolving into a mess; if you've never read it here ya go: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z1jI4jLoB60 
> 
> And yes, if you squint there's a wee bit of foreshadowing for upcoming chapters ;)

A blue-eyed R.A. held his well-spanked bratty young boyfriend and very slowly rocked him back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.

And while he rocked him, he sang:

_I'll love you forever,_

_I'll like you for always,_

_As long as I'm living my baby you'll be._

 

The boy bratted. He bratted and he bratted and he bratted. He bratted like he owned the school! And he strutted all around campus. He 'forgot' to go to class. He 'forgot' to go to play rehearsals and he drove his car even though he'd been drinking! Sometimes his friends would think, "this boy is driving us CRAZY!!!" But then the R.A. started turning that naughty reckless brat right over his knee. For the hairbrush or the Loopy or his hard hard hand.

And after Corner Time, when that teary, sniffly young brat was Sassifier-ed and Clarence Bear-ed and very well-spanked, his R.A. locked the door to his room, padded across the floor and sat down on the side of the bed; and since his boy was really well-spanked the R.A. picked him up and rocked him back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.

While he rocked him he sang:

_I'll love you forever,_

_I'll like you for always,_

_As long as I'm living my baby you'll be._

 

Still that pretty, naughty young man bratted. He bratted and he bratted and he bratted. He bratted like his friend wouldn't tell the R.A. where he was hiding! And he didn't tell the truth about where he'd been, and he threw tantrums when he should have just used his words, and he cursed and fussed and ended up standing in the corner in sweet little boy pajamas with a cherry-red bottom. Sometimes his R.A. wanted to sell him to the zoo!

And after Corner Time, when that teary, sniffly young brat was Sassifier-ed and Clarence Bear-ed and very well-spanked, the R.A. quietly locked the door to his room, padded across the floor and sat down on the side of the bed. Since he was really well-spanked, the R.A. picked up that sad naughty boy and rocked him back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.

And while he rocked him he sang:

_I'll love you forever,_

_I'll like you for always,_

_As long as I'm living my baby you'll be._

 

The boy  _still_ bratted. He bratted and he bratted and he bratted. He actually *yelled* at his R.A.! He even snuck into to a strange club where he met strange people and got 'brat-napped' by a strange new friend; that guy liked to BITE like he was in a zoo! The boy was VERY well-spanked for that one.

But that night time, when the teary, sniffly young brat was safely Sassifier-ed and Clarence Bear-ed and VERY well-spanked, the R.A. locked the door to his room, padded across the floor and sat down on the side of the bed. Since that teary-eyed brat was VERY well-spanked he picked up that great big boy and rocked him back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.

And while he rocked him he sang:

_I'll love you forever,_

_I'll like you for always,_

_As long as I'm living my baby you'll be._

 

That boy STILL bratted. He bratted and he bratted and he bratted. He didn't return texts and he didn't return calls and he acted like everything was the R.A.'s fault even though he knew it wasn't. But then on Christmas night that R.A. got into his car and drove across country to his boy's house. Even though all the lights in the house were out he knew his boy was there. When the boy came out the strong R.A. carried that big little boy all the way from his car to the fireplace and turned that boy's bottom redder than the fire! At dawn he had to go; that teary, sniffly young brat was Sassifier-ed and Clarence Bear-ed and _really_  well-spanked. The R.A. quietly locked the door to the room, padded across the floor and sat down on the side of the bed. Since he was _really_ well-spanked and fast asleep, the R.A. picked up that his sweet naughty boy and rocked him back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.

And while he rocked him he sang:

_I'll love you forever,_

_I'll like you for always,_

_As long as I'm living my baby you'll be._

 

Well, that R.A., he got busy. He got busier and busier and busier. Late one night he texted his boy and said,

 **"You'd better come see me because I have a deadline and I'm just so busy**!"

So his boy came to see him; when he walked in the door the R.A. was sitting at his drawing desk with his head way back on his drawing chair; he had drawing pencils in his hair and drawing scruff on his chin and he tried to sing the song. he sang:

_I'll love you forever,_

_I'll like you for always..._

But he couldn't finish because his eyes were just too sleepy and his head was just too heavy .

The boy went to the R.A. and kneeled down. He put his head on the R.A.'s knee and hugged him and rocked back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. And he sang this song:

_I'll love you forever,_

_I'll like you for always,_

_As long as I'm living my Daddy you'll be._

The boy had left the door a bit open. When the boy's big best friend came home that night, he passed by as the boy was singing that song. He stood for a long time outside their door.

Then he went down to his own room where his sweet, bratty little roommate was sleeping. He padded his Big Boy Feet across the room and stood by the side of the bunk bed. And since he was really asleep, the giant boy picked that sweet, naughty little boy up in his arms from the top bunk and very slowly rocked him back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.

And while he rocked him he sang:

_I'll love you forever,_

_I'll like you for always,_

_As long as I'm living my Gabey you'll be._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it, we now return to our regularly scheduled Bunker Hall shenanigans :-)


	17. SAM I am

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’ve got a ten-second head start. Go.” 
> 
> “…uh...” He really, honestly doesn’t know whether to move or stay still or what. He’d better figure it out.
> 
> “Seven seconds. Six. FIVE YOU BETTER GO--!!!” I take a sudden step towards him like I’m gonna grab him and that’s all it takes before he’s scrambled up and OUT the door. I give him another count of five before I take off after him; I see the tail end of his shirt just behind a group of kids at the other end of the hall and I’m right on his heels. He sees me coming and the panic on his face just fuels me; even dodging around people he’s not getting’ away from me.
> 
> Not once I’m done letting him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I said that Little Big Man was the last chapter before the Xmas chapter; I lied :) It felt like there was a little more for these guys before the first semester was over, plus a lot of you asked me for some SAM. So here ya go; enjoy :)

_Imma tell my Daddy who made me sit on that radiator and burn my booty and he gonna beat 'em up_

 

_See thas' why I don' like fightin' dragons they always set fire to my backside when I turn 'round durn it_

 

 *__* 

 

I'm awake. Kind of. My brain starts assessing the situation, I'm in Cas' bed with my head on his chest and his hand on my still-burning left asscheek. It's early, really early.

I know two things: One: my dreams are weird AF after a fake-kidnapping and HEINOUS spanking, and two: I am never ever sitting again, My rear-end feels like I left my car in the sun all day in July and then sat on her hood for like three hours. Actually it feels like

_Daddy_

Cas used the hairbrush on me and he was, um, particularly  _dedicated_  to the task. Can't blame him, I totally had it coming. I'm an idiot.

As if on cue, a finger under my chin lifts 'til I'm meeting hazy blue eyes. How they can be that stern and still so sleepy-soft I'll never understand, but they are. The Dred-brow is at half-mast; I'm not  _exactly_  in trouble anymore, I definitely paid for my sins last night (have I said "ow" yet? No? FUCKING **OW** ), but Cas is still...less than happy with me. I get it, I really do. Still...

I give him my best Baby Seal eyes, the ones that can even get Gabe to give me the last slice of pizza or whatever I'm trying to swindle out of him. Yeah I know it never works, but desperate times man--

"GAAH-UULGH!!!" Cas  _squeezes_  my ass (that ain't RIGHT) while he's reaching for something on his nightstand; when I YELP like a fool he pops in my Mute Button--! Meaning I'm not to say a thing until he takes it out again. Yep, I may be lying here with him but I may as well be across the room standing in that corner. Hell, I'm pretty sure the only reason I didn't have to do a good hour there last night is that I was so ridiculously tired Cas took pity on me. What can I say, a fake kidnapping and the mother of all spankings can wipe a dude out. Shut up.

Gently, Cas pushes me away to the side a bit then rolls me back toward him, on my belly. He reaches over to his table again, and then I close my eyes while the world goes all gooey and delicious as he applies more of the glorious arnica and aloe cream to my still-sooo sore bottom. He's mad at me. But he loves me.

I--this is--I don't feel _little_ , that's not right...just, I dunno, _small_...? I swear there's a difference. I'm still Big Dean, but I'm warm and I'm safe and everything is Cas and--

\--and I'm falling back to sleep. the last thing I remember is Cas' strong hands rubbing my back and my bottom, he snuggles down with me and I give him a sleepy Sassi-kiss because he's my Castiel and he loves me.

Even when I'm really, really naughty.

 

 &+&+&+&+&

 

...I do not want to go to class. I don't care that I missed more than enough when I was sick. I do NOT want to go  _sit_  in class today--!

Cas does not care. I'm going and that's it.

I even try the Baby Seal eyes again. All they get me is a scarier Dred-brow and a hand raised so high over my bottom that I actually fucking *scurry* out of bed and to the shower, where I'm reminded that a seriously sore ass HATES a seriously hot shower. Oh and did I mention Cas is taking my shower with me, to save us time and to make sure I keep my Mute Button in? Because that's a thing that's happening. And not a Fun Shower either, though any shower with Cas is at least kinda fun...but no sexytimes; he washes my hair for me (he does do the thing with his fingernails on my scalp that's all tingly, sigh) and makes sure every part of me is squeak-worthy before kicking me out. Of *course* I tried to touch him, have you met me? The lovely red mark on the back of my hand is from where he smacked it. Twice. Pout. 

Then I think about the time he used his scratchy loofah on my freshly-spanked soapy ass and count my blessings, THAT was an experience. 

By the time I'm totally ready it's late enough that I couldn't meet the guys for breakfast even if I wanted to (which I don't, they'll wanna know why I was incommunicado last night and I'm SO not telling that story, I need time to come up with a cover); I grab a protein bar from Cas' fridge to hork down on the way to class. He's already working; the next play after the holidays is called "Agnes of God" and Cas is already starting on his set designs. I sidle over to him, he glances at me and I know I must look, well, cute, standing here with my backpack and my Mute Button still in place, because his eyes have that flicker and light I only see when he thinks I'm really adorable. He pops out my button and turns me, sending me off with a TOTALLY FREAKIN' UNNECESSARY swat to my backside--!!

"OW DAMMIT!!!"

"...what was that?"

"--OW DAMMIT SIR!!!"

"That's better."

The look on my face would scare Danny Trejo. I scowl my way out the door.

I'm halfway to class when I get the text we all KNEW was coming:

 _**You will sit in every class today. For the entire class. No standing, no kneeling, you will** _ ******SIT.** _**Or you won't. For a very, very long time I promise you.** _

Aw! That's not--he can't--AW!!! And then:

**_Behave. Not because I have eyes everywhere, which you now know that I do..._ **

Yeah. He does. Trust me.

_**...but because you're my good boy and I love you.** _

...I can't even. Somehow I feel like the bestest boy and most awful spoiled brat all at the same time. Geez.

**Yes Sir. I love you.**

It's gonna be a long, long-ass day. Or Ass Day. Bah Humbug.

 

  &+&+&+&+&

 

 At the knock on my door I check my schedule; no, no appointments yet. And judging by the force of the knock, which sounds as if a Cave Troll is trying to be polite, I'm not at all surprised when my dear Sam comes ambling in at my call of "It's open!"

He comes bearing gifts of breakfast sandwiches; I provide good and hot Morning Thunder tea. We sit at my table and chat awhile, I can tell he's warming up to discussing whatever has brought him to me today. He knows both Dean's and my schedules for the most part, along with those of Gabriel and Gartholomew; he's become quite adept at seeking me out when I'm free while his beloved cronies are all otherwise occupied. Sam is always a welcome break in my day, he's a deep and wondrous soul; our talks are just as enlightening for me as for him.

"You sure I'm not buggin' you? I can come back later--"

"Nonsense; in fact I was in need of a break, I'm working on a preliminary sketch for the spring production--"

"Agnes of God, right? Dean told me that's up next."

"--indeed, and it's been rather frustrating achieving the right 'look'. I'm afraid it's been awhile since I've drawn a church, my steeple skills are rusty."

Sam nods sympathetically as he takes a sip of his tea, his brow knitting a bit; here we go.

"Cas...does Dean ever, uh...run from you? Like if he's in trouble?" Ah, there it is.

"I suspected this might come up at some point, our Gabriel does seem to flee the scenes of his crimes with consistency." Sam laughs low as he wolfs down another bite. 

I just don't get it; the little Flight Risk  _knows_ he can't outrun me--!"

"And that's why he runs." 

"Um...what?" I hold up a finger at the confused eyes, asking for a pause while I take a bite of my sandwich and plan out my further explanation. Sam takes the opportunity to go grab a Bearclaw from the highest cupboard, above the refrigerator where he knows I keep them; yes, I purchase them just for him, for our discussions. If I'm being honest, Sam has become my boy nearly as much as Dean these days. In a _very_  different way, but the affection and caring are certainly there and I must say they're quite strong. And mutual, I do believe.

Meanwhile, a sip of my tea and:

"He runs because he needs to, Sam. He _needs_ to know that you'll come after him; that you won't turn your back. Gabriel needs to know that you really  _see_  him, who he truly is; and that you still want to come after him. Because you find him worthy."

Sam thinks on this, his eyes gazing far past his cup. The hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips tells me that he does indeed understand. Good, our Gabriel needs all the understanding his friends can give him; especially the very special friend sitting here with me.

"I read online that you shouldn't give in to bad behavior though, it just reinforces it. If I chase after him doesn't that mean he'll just keep doing it?" I think on this a moment, reflectively.

"In general, those who believe such aren't wrong; it *is* better to reward the behavior you want rather than the misbehavior you don't. Still...in my experience a brat sometimes needs our attention but cannot simply ask for it. Dean has clearly implied, and yes my Dean can somehow 'clearly imply'...that overtly asking for what he needs ruins it for him; "like planning your own surprise party", to quote him directly. Even if you get exactly what you asked for, it's unsatisfying if you had to do the blatant asking. There's a desired and much-needed thrill, an anticipation and excitement, to testing the limits on occasion. Even if the consequences are severe, they soothe the soul. I don't pretend to always understand the workings of the mind of a brat, but I can understand that."  Sam nods slowly, I believe he does see it that way... 

"Does Dean pull that the way Gabe does? Running from you...?" Sam asks, taking a bite of his Bearclaw. I have to chuckle a bit, thinking of just last night. A different situation...but not as different as one might think.

"Not in the way Gabriel does, though I'd wager he's wanted to on more than one occasion; he tends to look longingly at the door for a moment when his penance is imminent. The closest he's come was his Purgatory adventure last evening--" Sam's pastry stops in mid-air, his eyes widened in considerable shock. My goodness. Apparently my boy kept his shenanigans to himself, or at least from his good friend Sam. One wonders why. Actually, one doesn't wonder at all.

"What 'adventure'?? DEAN WENT TO THE PURG??" Sam's face is a combination of fright and growing fury that likely mirrors my own the moment Benjamin called last night. 

"Indeed he did; I'm surprised he hasn't told you, although it's still rather early in the day. He was frustrated with...several issues, including being treated like a precious patient longer than he could tolerate before losing his temper. He was told to meet me here in an hour, instead he used a false I.D. and made his way into The Purg, as it's known."

Sam runs a hand through that mane and has to quite obviously force himself to stay seated; the urge to go find his

_naughty misbehaving little_

friend is nearly too much. Standing, I pat his rather massive shoulder as I head to my kettle. "Settle down Sam, he was safe; I have an old friend who still works there, he knew who Dean was and...took care of him until I arrived to fetch him. It's been dealt with; believe me, he won't attempt such a stunt again." Sam's breathing calms a bit as he turns and his eyes meet mine; comprehension dawns and he calms even further, a wicked gleam in his eye. "I'll bet he won't. Still makes me wanna...UGH is that place as bad as I've heard??" I shake my head and sigh as I refill my cup, the memories giving me both a chuckle and a shudder.

"Worse, at times. I tended bar myself years ago and...let's just say that I both experienced and witnessed plenty of 'adventures'. There's valid reason Purgatory is for the over-21 crowd and spends a good portion of its revenue on disinfectant."

"Which is why Dean had no business settin' foot in the place; and I just know he went all by himself, what was he thinking!?" Sam is speaking more to himself than to me, his anger palpable. I feel that I should reiterate that Dean has already paid and is in fact *still* paying, since his beloved Impala is yet parked in the Purgatory lot.

I'm curious though. How Sam will handle himself and his temper when he sees his miscreant friend Dean again.

Judging by his current expression...it could be very interesting for my little one. Very interesting indeed. I admit, the devil inside me would love to be a fly on that wall.

"He wasn't thinking, a habit he certainly needs to break." Sam nods, again more to himself. He's rubbing his right hand on his knee; a habit I've noticed that always seems to present itself the evening  before a morning that witnesses Gabriel exhibiting calm and well-mannered behavior. And walking rather...carefully. Suddenly he seems to shake himself from a bit of a reverie, checking his phone for the time and grabbing his coat.

"I gotta head to class, thanks for the 'claw and the talk," he pours the rest of his tea into his thermos, gives me one of his patented all-encompassing hugs, and he's out my door; sporting a rather grim, wintry smile.

 I believe my boys are in for quite the afternoon.

 &+&+&+&+&

 Thank GOD this class is almost over, I can’t sit in this old-ass wooden seat much freakin’ longer. It feels like—like I got my ass spanked hard and now I have to sit on a wooden fucking chair! There’s nothing I can compare it to that’s worse then what it is dammit…

Meanwhile Sammy’s next to me and I know he’s noticed how fucking squirmy I am, he’s had this…amused look all through class. No way he knows what’s up, I didn’t tell him and Cas was busy all morning…FINALLY class is over; I’m about to shoot right the hell up from this godawful torture-chair when Sam’s right in front of me, leaning over so I can’t move--!

“Look out Sam, I gotta get to my next—“

“I know, I know, I just need to ask you something about this one guy here.” We’re studying Mesmer, the guy who basically started hypnosis. Kind of. Anyway WHO CARES I need to get the hell UP OUTTA HERE--!!! I stifle a moan, this SUCKS OW FUCKING OW

“Come by my room later and we’ll study him, Sam, right now I gotta-

“Hey, why didn’t you answer my text or my calls last night? We were all wondering where the hell you got to.” Sam’s eyes are, well, boring into mine. If I didn’t know better I’d swear he knows about the Purg and Benny and all of it. That can’t be right, there’s seriously no way…is there?

I just went for a drive dude, needed to clear my head. Now SERIOUSLY MOVE, this chair makes my back hurt--!”

“Your…back. Oh sorry, my bad.” Sam grins the wrongest, weirdest friggin’ Pennywise grin at me ( _Sam_ looking like an Evil Clown is just *wrong*) and FUCKING FINALLY moves so I can jump the hell up. He’s still watching me as I get my stuff together; I can’t help it when a dumb little whine comes out while I’m getting my backpack on, the movement stretches certain places that do NOT wanna stretch just now.

“Wanna go for lunch? I’d love to *sit down* and hear where all you drove last night.” His voice is…that LOOK on his face…he’s mad at me.

He knows. He just…he does. And now my Sammy’s mad at me.

Rats. I gotta fix this. 

“I—later, ok Sammy? We should…talk…but not now. Cool?” His eyes narrow, SO MUCH LIKE CAS. He nods, slowly. “Fair enough, man. When you’re ready.”

Fair enough. Let *me* process the insanity of last night and then I’ll tell Sammy. And let him kill me.

For now, we walk out together; him to lunch and me to stand at one of the food trucks. I am an idiot who causes his own pain.

 

 

 &+&+&+&+&

 

“Dammit Gabe, enough with the closet! We have another whole week before we need to get packed, plus you know you can’t reach—“

Gabe's been driving me CRAZY all night, trying to start packing and trying to study and basically running around the room like the little Mogwai that he is. My patience is just about--

“Lemmee alone Sam, I don’t need you every damn time I want somethin’ outta the freakin’ closet; I lived a long time before I met YOU and I know how tooOOAUGHHHHSHIIIT!!!!!”

And that’s all I hear before it all goes to Hell. It’s a miracle that I actually catch him before he hits the floor; I’ve always had good reflexes but damn. Meanwhile half our crap is on the closet floor and there’s a half-broken shelf where little Doofus McDickhead grabbed on for dear life when the chair (NOT the stool he’s _supposed_ to use--!) fell out from under him. I deposit his sorry ass on the floor behind me while I put a hand on the wall and wait for my poor heart to stop its spasms.

Gabe, just as freaked as I am but much too GABE to show it, recovers from his own shaking and here comes his defensive BS: “For FUCK’S SAKE Sam, you pulled me down and NOW look at the mess you made!”

"I pulled-the mess *I*--WHAT—“

I turn to just friggin’ GAPE at him; he’s sitting on the floor, trying to calm his own breathing and _glaring_ at me like—

Like he really, really needs my *attention*.

The kind I can't give a certain other deserving brat who's not actually mine, but I can damn sure give to this one.

No problem, Dude.

Now he’s just looking at me, totally bent and a little lost, because he knows that with such lippy attitude he should have been over my knee, waiting for “Welcome to the Jungle” or something else from our mix to start before a quick round with my hand followed by orders to clean up HIS mess.  

Instead I feel a nasty smile, Level-Three Grinch, spreading across my face. Gabe sees this and the three perfect ‘O’s his eyes and his lips make are priceless.

Time for that surprise party.

“You’ve got a ten-second head start. Go.” 

“…uh...” He really, honestly doesn’t know whether to move or stay still or what. He’d better figure it out.

“Seven seconds. Six. **_FIVE YOU BETTER GO--!!!”_** I take a sudden step towards him like I’m gonna grab him and that’s all it takes before he’s scrambled up and OUT the door. I give him another count of five before I take off after him; I see the tail end of his shirt just behind a group of kids at the other end of the hall and I’m right on his heels. He sees me coming and the panic on his face just _fuels_ me; even dodging around people he’s not getting’ away from me.

Not once I’m done letting him.

 

&+&+&+&+&

 

 

SAM’S LOST HIS FUCKING MIND. That’s all I can think while I’m running my ass off all through this goddamned dorm--! He’s *EVERYWHERE*, on every staircase I try and every floor I think is safe he’s RIGHT FUCKING THERE. But he doesn’t catch me, and I know he could…he’s lost his mind. I should probably be concerned for him but this is too much fucking fun. I’m breathing hard and hiding (yes hiding, fuck off) in the dudes’ third floor shower; if I can figure out some kind of strategy—wait, how do I even win…? He didn’t tell me how to win, what the hell are we even doing and am I gettin’ my ass smacked later or what?!

I don’t even know right now, up is left and cats are sleeping with dogs; mass hysteria. I figure I’ll sneak my way back to our room and…I dunno, regroup or some shit…

I slink my way through the weird side staircase nobody ever uses; I just know Sam’s gonna pop out at me and my heart is in my face the entire time. People are looking at me like I’m insane. Yeah, *I’m* the insane one in this…whatever the fuck this is. Meanwhile I get to the first floor again and the hall’s empty, folks must’ve gone to bed and Castiel isn’t making his rounds yet. I actually make it to our door un-Sammed. I bet he thinks I’m still hiding somewhere, he’s probably looking outside by now; hey, he never did tell me there’s rules or anything…I find my keys and use my sleeve over it to open the door as quietly as I can, looking left and right over and over and--

...AND KING KONG PULLS ME OFF MY FUCKING FEET INTO THE DARK-ASS ROOM GODDAMMIT HE WAS IN HERE ALREADY FUUUUCK--!!!!

"Gotcha." That's ALL the lunatic says while he kicks the door closed and shoves me under his arm ass-up oh FUCK ME--

"Dude NOOO SERIOUSLY I'll pick up the mess just DON'T!!!" I'm doing my damndest to get the hell away but it's like trying to untangle from Cthulu; Sam just laughs a nasty, nasty laugh...

"No way man, you let me chase you all over this friggin' dorm—

\--YOU TOLD ME TO RUN!!!”

\--and that was AFTER you almost ruined all my Daycare hand-turkeys the kids made me! I think that means you want a few for yourself..." 

"A few...what are you talkin' aboUTOWOWOWSHIT!!!!" Sam yanks down my freakin' jeans and he’s smacking the HELL outta my ass, there's gotta be three perfect hand prints--oh my fucking god  _that's_  what he meant--!!!

"NO FUCKING WAY, do NOT leave fuckin' HAND TURKEYS ON MY ASS GODDAMMIT!!!" He's doing some flick-thing with his wrist so it stings more but I cannot stop laughing, neither can Sam. We are total idiots and this is a prime example of that. 

Then suddenly it’s…not fun anymore. It _is…_ but I can’t stop the wrong thoughts.

_I don’t wanna go home I don’t wanna leave don’t wanna leave this leave him_

Whatever, make fun of me if you want but it’s true; I love Christmas and I can’t wait to see my mom, but a whole month of my Dad throwing my perfect fucking brothers in my face is just…I can’t even handle thinking about it. Not when things here…have been so…Garth and Failchester and _Sam_

_Sam_

_SAM_ …I will not fucking cry I will NOT

Sam hears the change in me, feels it. He pulls my jeans back up (ow) and puts me down and I can’t look at him, I just stand there staring at the mess on the floor. If I look him in the eye right now I’ll bust into a zillion pathetic pieces.

I can actually feel him thinking. About what to do with my pitiful self. I’m about to tell him it’s ok, I’m good and I’ll start picking up the mess, when he’s shoving my pajama pants and a t-shirt of his (?) at me. “Go to the bathroom and put these on, then come right back. RIGHT BACK, Gabe.” I nod and just…go. Dunno why, exactly, I just don’t feel like being my usual question-everything snarky self right now.

When I get back to the room I feel a little more like myself, less like I’m about to fall the fuck apart. And now I know the little ‘whump’ sound I heard from the bathroom was Sam pulling my mattress down to the floor…! He’s laid it next to his, also on the floor, and put all of our blankets and pillows down. Before I can even say anything he’s turning off the light and sitting up on the mattresses with his back against the bunks, a pillow behind him.

‘Cmon, sit with me.” He points to the bowl of microwave popcorn he must have nuked while I was changing, and HOLY SHIT MY BEER

Sam knows I’m a total fucking girly-girl about this strawberry beer, Fruli; I had it once on a dare and ended up loving the shit out of it. But when did he--?

“I was saving it for when finals are totally done; it was under my bed. It’s a little warm but the cups were in the freezer.” I can’t even…my friends are amazing. You don’t have friends like mine, I wish you did.

And I wish you had a Sam like mine. I really do.

I go to sit down next to him and he puts down his own beer to literally fucking LIFT ME my shoulders and sit me against him, my back to his chest. His chest that is the fucking WALL from Game of Thrones Night’s Watch; it might be even harder than his concrete head; But it's soft too, somehow.

And warm, dammit.

I put up a fight for a second, this is…weird between dudes, right?? But when he leans down and says, all quiet and horrifying,

“You can watch Louis C.K. with clear eyes or blurry, your call.”

I finally give the hell up and just lean back against him; once I stop struggling he hands me my (fucking delicious strawberry!) beer, and then the kielbasa-sized fingers on that hand are combing into my hair and rubbing my ears; something my older brother used to do for me when I was really little, that I told Sam about one drunken night. Goddamn him, it feels...Jesus it's like all the tension I've had since I was born is dissolving, like he's drawing it out. I should stop this, we are *not* freakin' boyfriends...! 

Fuck it. That's way too much thought for right now.

I have no idea how I'm gonna get through an entire month with Dad, without my friends; without...without Sam. 

Tonight he's all around me and it's good for me, it just is. I know it's good for him too.

I hold up my bottle and we clink while Louie talks about how much he hates Deer.

It's enough. It really is. 

Thanks Sam. For all of it. I can get through the break if I know I can come back. 

To you.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That concludes the first semester, hope you liked it! Comments and questions always welcome, they Bunker Boys will be back soon :)


	18. Preview: SUMMER HALL

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a fib but I think you'll forgive me ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not a real chapter: I'm on my way out of town for a few days, but before I go I wanted to let all you **AWESOME** readers know that we're taking a break from Bunker Hall to spend the summer with our boys! No worries, the spring semester will 'not' be forgotten: you'll hear all about it, and how we got to where we are now, which is...well, enjoy the preview below :)

_The door hardly creaks open. Slightly chilly toes whisper across the barefoot floor. I can feel him standing beside the bed, swaying slightly, sleepy and soft._

_Cas must be out for a run._

_Lowering the blanket then reaching out behind me, feeling for and finding what I don't need open eyes to 'see': the "Incredibles" t-shirt over one of my favorite bellybuttons in the world. And yes, I have favorites. Two, actually...my fingers scrabble around that button, enjoying the ticklish sniggles (muffled by a Spiderman Sassifier) as I grab at the cotton T; use it to haul the owner of said bellybutton up and over. He lands in between Gabe and me; Gabe barely even stirs over on his side, with his blindfold still in place and his hands still cuffed behind his back he's deeply in sleep and likely still in the remnants of subspace. Dean snuggles his back and bottom to my front as I bring the blanket back up to cover the three of us, he moves my arm right where he wants it: wrapped around his middle with my hand under his t-shirt. Taking the opposite-of-subtle hint I gently tickle and scritch and squeeze; feel him melting back down to sleep while he in turn runs fingers around Gabe's back and shoulders. Gabe instinctively curls into the touch, purring from wherever his dreams took him this time. It's not long before Dean's out and I'm on my way._

_I love Summer Sundays._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What? How did--when did they--WHAT?? 
> 
> Answers SOON, I promise; please keep watch for SUMMER HALL coming in the next few weeks!


	19. If You Give A Brat His Sassi...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you give your brat his sassi, 
> 
> He’s going to ask for his Angel Bear.
> 
> When you can’t find his bear
> 
> He’ll remember he left it in Sam n’ Gabe’s room
> 
> And he can’t possibly have a nap without it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've reached 30,000 hits! Time for a Very Special Episode, enjoy my silliness :)

If you give your brat his sassi, 

He’s going to ask for his Angel Bear.

When you can’t find his bear

He’ll remember he left it in Sam n’ Gabe’s room

And he can’t _possibly_ have a nap without it.

He’ll say he just _has_ to go and get it and

You’ll tell him that he’d better come _right back_

Or else he’ll have to have his nap with a sore bottom.

He’ll promise and he’ll think he means it

But you know your boy and you also know Gabe

So you'll decide you’d better go with him.

When you knock Sam will let you in

And you'll look all around

But you won’t see Clarence Bear anywhere!

Your brat will ask Sam’s brat if he’s seen Clarence Bear.

Gabriel will just shrug.

He'll keep playing Skyrim and pretend he doesn’t even know what a bear is...!

Your brat will start to get cranky.

He’ll say that he KNOWS his bear is in here somewhere.

Sam’s brat will tell your brat to bite him.

And that he’ll teach your brat’s grandma to suck eggs!

Dean won't like that.

You won't like that.

SAM won’t like that.

SAM will grab his brat and lift him up. His feet won't be on the floor!

He’ll whisper into his brat’s ear. He’ll whisper and whisper.

Gabe will turn red. His eyes will get bigger and bigger.

Sam will put Gabe back on the floor and Gabe will say that he’s sorry. Very, very sorry!

He’ll point to his bunk bed Sam will bring Clarence Bear out from under the blankets.

Sam will give Dean his bear. But then he'll see that his brat is sad. 

Gabe will be sad. Gabe will have no bear of his own. 

Dean will have an idea.

Let’s all go and buy a bear for Gabe!

You’ll want to remind your brat that he was _supposed_ to be napping.

Then you’ll see how happy Gabe looks and sigh.

You’ll decide the nap can wait. Your eyes will meet Sam’s.

You’ll know you’re thinking the same thoughts.

Brats.

Sigh.

When you get to mall, you and Sam will tell both your boys that you’re going to ONE store to buy ONE bear. SAM will add that they had better be on their best behavior or **else**.

Your brats will nod and look as innocent as angels.

Yeah. Right.

You and Sam will snort at the same time. 

You’ll all head into the toy store. Sam will tell the Nice Sales Lady that you’re looking for a bear. The Nice Sales Lady will ask if the bear is for a baby or a preschooler?

Sam will say that it depends on the day.

The Nice Sales Lady will look a little befuddled. Gabe will blush. He’ll blush and blush.

Dean will try not to laugh. He’ll squeak and blush himself when you pinch his bottom and remind him to **“ _Behave._ ” **

He'll hide his face on your shoulder. You'll steal a kiss and send him to help Gabe pick out a bear. 

Gabe will look at different bears. He’ll see a moose with a plaid flannel scarf that he really, _really_ likes! Dean will like it too, he'll almost want the moose for his own! He'll like it so much that he’ll tell Gabe to get the moose instead of a bear. Gabe will think that’s a fine idea and he’ll start to tell Sam that he wants the moose.

But then Gabe will see the Raccoon.

Gabe will see a soft little raccoon with a little green jacket.

The raccoon will have a grin and his eyes will twinkle. He'll look like he was born naughty.

Gabe has a grin and his eyes twinkle. He looks like he was born naughty.

Little Tricksters. Both of them.

Just as he’s about to tell Sam, He'll hear Sam behind him:

“We’ll take it.”

Sam will love the little Raccoon too. Because reasons. 

While Sam is paying for the raccoon you'll steer the brats away from a Batman display. There's a Big Huge Batmobile that you can really drive!

The sign will say DO NOT TOUCH. 

You'll have to scold Dean and actually pull Gabe away from the Batmobile to keep them out of it.

Gabe will pout.

SAM will look like he'll give Gabe a better reason to pout.

Gabe will hug the bag with his new raccoon and hug SAM until the Sam face is back. 

 

Gabe will name his raccoon “Tricky.” Tricky will come with a tiny stuffed fishy that the raccoon “stole”.

The fish will remind Dean that he’s hungry. Sam will announce that he’s hungry too, and when Gabe joins in you’ll realize you’re hungry as well. You’ll all head over to the food court.

Sam will want All the Foods. You’ll ask your brats what they want to eat and send them to find a table. You’ll follow Sam from stand to stand while he orders. He’ll order and order. You’ll help him with many trays back to…

You’ll look.

You’ll look and look. You won’t see Dean or Gabe anywhere!

Sam will look too. Even from his view he won’t be able to see them.

You’ll put the trays down and tell Sam to just sit and eat while you Brat Hunt.

Sam will be just about to take a bite of fried rice when you’ll hear your name over the Loud Speaker.

Oh. Oh no.

Sam eyes will get darker. They’ll get darker and darker.

He’ll put down his plastic fork.

He’ll go and get boxes for All the Foods. The teenage girl who gives him the boxes will never be the same again.

You’ll both head to the Office like the VOICE told you to.

When you get there you’ll see Dean and Gabriel.

And you’ll see the Nice Security Guard who has them.

Dean will see you and look guilty but relieved.

Gabe will see Sam and somehow become smaller. He'll get smaller and smaller.

The Nice Security Guard will explain that your brats went back to the toy store.

 He’ll say that One of them was buying a teddy-bear sized trench coat from the Nice Sales Lady.

 The Other One was touching the DO NOT TOUCH life-sized Batmobile. 

He'll say that Gabe accidentally bumped the button. 

The button that made the car GO.

The Security Guard will assure you that no real damage was done but many, MANY toys will need to be put back on the shelves Gabe knocked down.

He’ll say that Gabe isn’t allowed in the store anymore without a Grownup.

SAM will thank the Nice Security Guard and insist that Gabriel apologize.

SAM'S voice makes sure Gabriel apologizes.

You’ll each take your brat by the collar. Their day is DONE.

Back at the Bunker you head straight to your rooms.

You get to Sam and Gabe’s first. As soon as their door closes You hear Sam saying…something.

Then all you can hear is AC/DC’s “Thunderstruck”.

It’s loud. And it’s not all you hear.  You'll almost feel sorry for Gabriel.

Almost. Not quite though.

You'll take your brat back to your room. He'll be worried that you're mad at him.

You won't be. You know he wanted the trench coat to be a surprise. 

He'll still be in trouble though, he wasn't supposed to go off without telling you. 

He'll still gett a spanking. Just not a terrible spanking.

You'll sit on your bed. You'll slide his jeans down and slip him over your knee.

He'll tremble, just a bit. He trusts you but he knows his bottom is going to sting. 

You'll 

_SMACK_

_SMACK_  
  
_SMACK SMACK SMACK_

his round backside, enjoying the bounce and the way he kicks just enough to be adorable.

You'll give just a few more spanks. He was mostly a Good Boy today.

His bottom will be good and toasty when you raise him from your lap and ease him under the blankets.

He'll be sleepy. He'll want a nice long nap.

Just as you're tucking him in, there'll be a knock at your door.

Sam will be there. With Clarence Bear, who was still in Sam and Gabe's room. 

Sam will say that Gabe is already asleep. He'll tuck Clarence in with Dean. 

And chances are, once Dean has his Clarence Bear...

He'll want his Sassi to go with it. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it, and yes the boys will be back for their Sophomore Year very soon and with a surprise or two! :) 
> 
> If You Give a Mouse a Cookie: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mP_blz6lMtA


End file.
